All That Matters
by Kaitsy
Summary: Too aware of her surroundings, Lily Evans tells how, with help from the Marauders, she emerged from her cocoon to live, love, and find liberty in a dark, cynical world. The travel isn't light, but Lily learns what matters in a raw and poignant odyssey.
1. October Beginnings

**I'd like to point out that though I take an immense amount of pride in this story - It wasn't so good at the beginning. I think we all can see our writing change, and mine certainly has. So, the first couple of chapters are written in a different way from the rest of them, and I ask you not to judge too quickly. I would rewrite if I could find the time, but all I can assure you is that it does get better. I appreciate reviews of any sort, but I don't appreciate negative reviews, that aren't justified. So, if you hate my story -- Give me a reason why, other than because of the way I spell 'Ohkay'. Thanks.**

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, or rights to anything JK Rowling created.

Summary: October, 1977. 7th year at Hogwarts for James Potter and co. The Marauders do what they've always been doing, and Lily Evans is, of course, along for the ride.

**Chapter 1  
**"October Beginnings"

**abc.**

James Potter was everything I hated, mainly because he was everything I wanted. He was handsome, and charming. Suave and sleek. Composed and strong.

He was everything a Potter should be.

His family was well-known in the wizarding world. So many generations of Potter's having ranked high up in the Ministry of Magic. I think his grandfather was Minister of Magic at some point. But none of that is here nor there.

James Potter was the smartest wizard in our year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That's how he came to get Head Boy. His friends were all gorgeous save for Peter and they were all popular including Peter.

Even though they were so popular, it's not like every girl wanted them. Especially not James, because he kept to himself. Something I'll elaborate on later.  
Every girl wanted Sirius, though, because he's quite the lady's man. It's like that character written in a story, that always has to be the same. No matter how many lifetimes Sirius may have lived through, and no matter how many stories he could be written in to He'd always be the flaming gorgeous, idiot, with a list of non-ceasing come on lines.  
Remus Lupin was quite like James. He kept to himself a bit less than James, however. He'd laugh loudly along with Sirius, while James laughed his quiet "heh, heh, heh" of a laugh, his eyes staying downcast. And Peter was just along for the ride, it seemed.

No one understood why James was so...introverted, with the friends he had. Loud, boisterous, Marauders. Or how he _could_ be. Sure, he had a few girlfriends. So did the rest of his friends. Usually just flings, to keep themselves satisfied. But James only had serious relationships, because he would never get in to one if it wasn't going to be serious.

You ask any girl he dated, and they'd tell you He wouldn't kiss until at least the fourth date, and that would be without any tongue. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, held hands, paid for dinner, and assisted with coats Some girls just wanted to date him because of his flat-out, genuine, chivalry. But those girls who just wanted to date him because of his gentlemen ways, and boyish good looks Ended up falling deeper than they expected.

I don't think in all the 7 years I had known him or known _of_ him had we spoke one word to the other.  
He'd send me small smiles like he'd send to everyone he passed by in corridors, and perhaps asked to borrow a quill one time in Potions class, in fourth year. But never had I actually talked to James Potter. I only observed him, because he was interesting. Watching his small motions, and movements. The way he'd rub his index finger over his right cheek, just below his glasses when he was asked a question in class, or by anyone, for that matter. Just the little things were absolutely entrancing, because he had such a _way.._

You probably think I'm obsessed with detail. Or obsessed with digging into other peoples lives. Well, you would be too if you had my friends. My friends were rather ditzy. I had one best friend, and the rest I just...acted stupid with. I think it was something to do with Sirius Black. All of them had snogged him at one point, and I think that did something to them.

Anyways. My friends are another story, another time. This is James Potter, and the Marauders. This is uncovering into an engima. This is exporing my 7th year This is my story of how the Marauders changed everything that was Lily Evans into Lily Evans, _plus._

I never once imagined I'd be giving credit to James Potter & the Marauders for who I turned out to be...  
What I hoped was a good person.

_**Mid-October, 1977**_

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was always some place I didn't mind being. Especially now that I had this shiny, Head Girl badge pinned to my chest. I could tell those bickering little 13 year olds to keep it quiet, and I could set a curfew for the 1st & 2nd years. I could deduct points, and I could stay up as late as I wanted. 

Being a 7th year with privilages was turning out quite good.

I was sitting on the carpeted floor, leaning up against the couch, with my stuff spread out on the oak coffee table...  
I was waiting for James Potter.

I had to admit I was nervous. This was..._the_ James Potter. This was the James Potter that was so stiff sometimes acted like he had a stick up his ass and quiet that other people just became quiet when they were _near_ him. They were like me, they couldn't help but watch him.

And I was also nervous because this was the first time in a month and a half of Head duties that we were actually going to _speak_ and discuss things.

It was funny. I always liked the Marauders. Always talked with them, and joked. We were just all friends, because we were in the same year, I suppose. But I could warm up to _Peter_ more than I could warm up to James.

Sure he was everything I said he was at the beginning. Handsome, suave, sophisticated, and composed. Handsome, suave, sophisticated, and composed. Handsome, suave, sophisticated, and composed. Over, and over. God, and he was all of that whilst being a quiet, mysterious-type, guy.

Plus, he didn't seem to like _me_ much.

It was strange, the things you pick up on over the years. The people who gradually befriend you. The people who you instantly notice. The people who seem to avoid you as much as possible.

Now, I was never trying to be paranoid. I do realize that Hogwarts has, probably, over 1000 people. And I do realize there are loads of people in Gryffindor alone. But James sat near me in most classes. His friends hung out with my friends, and we should've had hung out with each other. But as quiet as he was, it was like he became quieter when I was around.

I noted that most people were staggering off to bed. It was a Thursday night, and most people just wanted to get Friday over with, so they were off to the dorms by around 10. The Marauders only three of them, I quickly realized, and James wasn't one and a few other 7th years were left.

I chewed my nails, as I waited for James Potter to make his appearance. He was rather pissing me off.

At 10:45, Peter & Remus were off to bed, and Sirius came over to the couch I was slumped against.

"Prongs well, James, is upstairs, by the way."

I blinked. "Doing what?" It sounded stupid, but if he was off sleeping or something, I was going to kill him.

Ah, and to the surprise of no one, he was in fact sleeping. James Potter liked his sleep, it seemed apparent to us over the years. Honestly, he worried me at times. He worried all of 7th year girls, really. Was the boys dorm really the interesting, we always wondered. No, it really wasn't. Because before 7th year was over, I had seen it many a time. No, Mr James Potter, in fact, did like his sleep, and didn't like the common room.

Yeah, I changed that.

"I dunno. Sleepin'." Sirius rumpled his hair up, while yawning. "Ohkay, later."

"Later?" I remember raising my eyebrows until my forehead creased painfully, and Sirius snickered slightly.

Sirius was so nonchalant. Which was something else I never understood until much, much later. He was a Black, for christ's sake. We all knew about it. Regulus Black, and his relatives in Slytherin. He should've had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he carried it off so well. In earlier years, I thought he was a conceited prat. (Which he actually was, in a joking way.) But after...after they showed me all that mattered, I realized, yeah, Sirius Black was a good guy. Even better guy for putting up with how James was. And, yeah, finally, I admired him for everything he went through. (Took me some years to admit that one.)

"Would you like me to go wake him?" I could've punched him, really.

"Please and thank you, Sirius." I sighed exasperatedly, and leaned back against the couch.

"All right, Lily." See, he was a good guy.

3 minutes and 22 seconds later, James finally emerged, rumpling his hair in that way only him & Sirius did.

"Sorry," He yawned and murmured, situating himself on the opposite side of the coffee table, so that he was facing me.

It just seemed to hit me, like a bucket of cold water James Potter apologizing for over sleeping, at night...Was the first actual word he had said to me. That one word had started it all. That one word was the beginning of an era, almost. Was the beginning of salvation and redemption. Was the beginning of all that mattered.

"It's ohkay. We've not much to cover anyways." It would be hard to forget the way his eyes looked. A hazy...hazel, colour. They always seemed misted over with infuriatingly deep thoughts. Green, and brown merged into one...

His eye colour didn't mean much to me then. But I remember the flush in my cheeks as he rubbed his eyes, and placed his glasses back on, and then looked at me.

"Ohkay." God, the way the corners of his mouth kept twitching upwards for a moment...I thought he was going to say something more.

"Um," I cleared my throat uncomfortably, and James stretched out until his back came to rest against the couch behind him. He folded his arms over his chest, and focused his eyes on the parchment & books spread out on the table.

"I thought we didn't have a lot to cover." He raised his eyebrows, though only slightly. As if he didn't want to let on that it bothered him, or that he couldn't handle it.

He was always like that.

* * *

"We don't. It's just a load of shit I'm trying to catch up on." 

This would be the first time he smiled at anything I said.

"Head girl behind in her studies? Alert the media." I smiled a bit, too.

"It's hard sometimes, I guess. I mean, I've never liked classes. I just...don't want to have to be extra-studious, because I'm head girl. I don't even know how I am head girl. I just...Ohkay, so I was thinking not a lot of balls or dances. Nothing for Halloween that was a wreck last year. We should just have...inner-house parties, or something. Maybe a dance for Christmas. Maybe not. Maybe one at the end of the year, and nothing for Valentine's day."

"D'you hate dances?" James Potter asked in a monotone, sitting up, and jotting the things I had just said down.

"Basically."

James nodded. "Noted."

There was five minutes of silence in which I pretended to look over notes, and he pretended to write them. Things had become oddly tense.

"So you _are_ always quiet, no matter who's around." I looked around the common room, realizing we were pretty much alone.

This didn't sit too well with James Potter.

"Evans, this is the most we've spoken in 6 years, and it wouldn't probably be the best time to start throwing your observations in my face," He was too proper to be harsh. "You've always been one to make assumptions."

"Now who's the one making assumptions? We've never spoken, yet I've always been one to make assumptions?"

"I suppose we're even then. You stay a judemental bitch, and I'll stay quiet," He tore the piece of parchment that he had written on off, and handed it to me. "Here. Goodnight Evans."

Well, we were off to a good start.

But that's just it We weren't. I wanted to try, because...What the hell was I going to lose in gaining another friend?

God, it took me ages to win him over. He was stubborn, too, by the way. Determined.

James Potter had thick, sticky-outy, black hair. He had thin-framed glasses, because he was near-sighted, and he had broad shoulders. He had perfect posture, and he had a nice chest. His arms weren't over-muscular, and his legs were long, which made us wonder how he was so good at Qudditch. He had hazel eyes, and a nice, husky, voice, along with a set of pearly whites. His handwriting was neat, his feet were a size 11, and he always needed to wear socks to bed.

His name was James Potter, and it took me about a year to find out his middle name.

They were always called the Marauders. I don't even remember the first time I actually heard it said, it was just almost like instinct to refer to those 4 boys as...the Marauders.

Wormtail, Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs.

They were four guys who not many understood. They were four guys who seemed to slack off as much as possible, but work hard. To be assholes, but be undeniably sweet. Keep to themselves, but let everyone know. The Marauders contradicted everything that they were.

I didn't care if people didn't like me. I know there are people who don't like me. There are people I don't like. I have my friends, though, so it's nothing that I dwelled on. It's nothing I realized, and it's nothing that bothered me.

Until that night with James Potter. It drove me crazy. I couldn't _stop_ thinking about how he was so short with me, when I didn't even mean anything by what I had said. And he called me a judgmental bitch.

I called him **_QUIET_**. It was something simple, and it was something that could be taken as a compliment, or taken as nothing at all. I had never actually spoken to him before, but after being around a person for 6 years and some, you realize who's quiet, and who's not. You realize a bit of their personalities, whether you speak to them or not.

But you don't call somebody a judgmental bitch when you've never spoken to them. How would James Potter know if I was a judgmental bitch if he didn't actually know me? I don't go around calling people out, and telling them how absolutely ugly they are. Or sneering at people when they talk to me, because they hang out with a certain crowd, or something. I think I'm fairly nice. The only people I may be a bit judgmental towards are the Syltherins, but who isn't!

And at first it had made me mad, and I made a mental note not to ever talk to him again. We could split the Head Duties.

Later that night, though, I just...I started wondering if I really was that damn horrible. I mean, I had acquaintances. Almost-friends. I had one I guess best friend. Jada.

Honestly, Jada was great. She was so little, and sweet-sounding, but could be _such _a bitch. She might've been just over 5 feet, and had straight, light brown hair, that fell past her shoulders. She liked boys, and I knew that boys caused problems. We clashed over that a lot. Her always having a boyfriend, and just not being there when I needed her.

Laying in my bed, realizing how absolutely right James was. I was going over it in my head, and recalling everything I had just thought. I thought my best friend was a bitch. The closest thing to a best friend I'd ever had. I thought all boys were the same. Obnoxious, decieving, assholes.

I was a judgmental bitch.

I hadn't cried in front of anybody for...years. I hadn't cried, at all, for months. But the next day it seemed all I _could_ do.  
I threw myself into the shower, and dressed in my uniform, untying the double knots in my shoes as I walked down the stairs in to the common room. The laces were too long, and when I just tied them once, the ends drug along the ground.

I was thoroughly cursing my lazy habit of kicking my shoes off and untying them the next morning.

"Oh, bloody hell." I bemoaned, sinking to the floor at the end of the stairs, and tossing my schoolbag onto the floor, as I dug through it, looking for my wand.

Tears were filling my eyes, and I remember how absolutely awful I looked that morning, despite the random bouts of crying.

I was fair-skinned anyway, so the dark circles under my eyes from not much sleep, and lots of crying contrasted horribly with my skin.

Finally I tossed my shoe to the floor, and threw my head in my hands, the tears falling faster when I seen Jada leave the common room with a boy. Boys. God damn boys.

"May I be of assistance?" The voice was a guys, and sounded fairly amused. I turned 'round with a look of desperation on my face.

Sirius Black. In all of his just-woke-up-and-I-still-look-good glory. His hair was so bloody thick, and wavy girls envied him. It was dark, dark...chestnut-brown. And his eyes were a grey-ish, blue. What would be considered a dull-blue, but it had so much depth that it was just absolutely...mezmerizing. He had pretty eyes.  
He was sinewy, he was more muscular than James was when it came to arms, but James was the Qudditch captain, and absolutely fit because of it.

His shoulders weren't that broad, and they were often slouched, followed by his fists jammed into his pockets. Looking horribly innocent, and casual. Girls fell at his feet.

But I, for one, was quite happy with just being friends with him, and Remus.

"Please and thank you, Sirius." He stooped down, and took my shoe, and fiddled with the laces for a moment, before tugging them loose from the knot. He then did the other.

I was just staring off into space, not realizing what he was doing until he was doing it. I wasn't as uncomfortable with it as I thought I'd be.

He bent my knee, and angled my foot out so he could slide my shoe onto my left foot. He tied the laces somehow without knotting them, they were perfect length. He slipped my right shoe on, and tied the laces on that one, too, as I tilted my head to the side and watched him with a small smile.

"You've been crying." He said, not so intelligibly. The red streaks down my cheeks, and the bloodshot to my eyes was more than enough to give that away.

I sighed, however, and wiped a moist trail away from my cheek with the back of my hand.

"Fuck," I muttered, noting the black smear on my hand, and remembering I had put mascara on. "Damn cosmetics."

Sirius seemed as if he couldn't help but grin, and tentatively reached a hand out to my cheek.

"Little bit left there. May I?" I don't think he was ever that courteous before that. Or after, for that matter. I recall him telling me sometime later that a damsel in distress was his weakness. He couldn't help but let the Shakespearen-like words, and sentences flow.

"Of course." I obliged.  
His hands were rather rugged, as if he had done much damage to them in a short amount of time. It was an odd contrast, really.

His complexion was darker than mine, and his hands were cool, as they smoothed over my warm cheek, wiping the mascara away. It was...it was then, with Sirius, that...our two worlds really fused. My world, and the Marauders' world.

James Potter had f'ing drove me to insanity with a simple statement, and Sirius Black was going to fix that.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked him quietly, as he pulled his hand back, and his eyes went down to the well-done job he did at tying my shoes.

"Of course."

"Do you find James Potter to be an influential person?" I spoke quickly, and bit my bottom lip sharply as I finished.

Sirius Black laughed, and laughed, and once he finished he cleared his throat, and had a bit of a flush to his cheeks. I'll never, to this day, know why he found it so funny.

"If you find a quiet, kind, shell of a man influential, then sure."

"Ohkay, well...If he called you a bastard, would you take it to heart?"

Sirius nodded as if understanding what I meant now. "Not if he _just_ called me a bastard. Buuut...say he called me a..._manipulative_ bastard. Yeah, then I'd probably be a bit...hurt."

I sat with a rather somber face, as I put my hair behind my ears, and shook my head slowly.

"He called me a judgmental bitch." I wanted to cry again.

"Oh, sweetheart," Charming barstard, Black always was. "That's what's with all the tears? Come now, no boy's worth 'em. 'Specially not James," He grinned his cheeky grin. "Though I didn't realize he tickled your fancy that way."

I scrunched my nose up at the thought of James Potter tickling my, or anybody's, fancy. "He _doesn't. _I've hardly spoken to the boy in my whole life. But last night, I just...call him quiet, and...he calls me a judgmental bitch. For some reason it's just absolutely...shattered me. It really should mean nothing, for the simple fact that I hardly _do_ know him, and hardly have spoken to him, but it's scary, because at times it's like he's reading me like a book. Like he can find out as much as he wants to of me with a snap of his fingers. And,-"

Sirius was laughing again, and then hoisting himself to his feet. He picked my school bag up, and slung it over his shoulder with his own, and then offered me his hand.

"You know what you need?" He shook his shaggy brown hair from his eyes as we began making our way to breakfast. "You need...more friends. Good friends. Best friends. You've only got catty whores to contend with. James could do with some female influence. Wouldn't it be _crazy_ if you guys...became friends?"

It was my turn to laugh, but I did so quietly. I still felt absolutely depressed. ...And dramatic.

"I don't know, Sirius." We rounded the corner, and made our way down the last set of stairs before the marble staircase.

"Honestly, though. I'd like it if you were around us more. It'd be good. Interesting. Healthy for us all." We arrived at the bottom of the staircase, he strided ahead of me, turned around and grinned at me, then walked off without me. My pink & beige coloured school bag swinging gracefully from his shoulder.

* * *

**Hope it's half-decent thus far. Reviews would be appreciated. You know you wannnna.**

**Love**

**Kaitlyn.**


	2. Realizing Lily

**Chapter 2  
**"Realizing Lily"

**abc.**

Lily Evans was London, England where I was born and raised. Her initals even fit it to perfection.

Classy, and British. Sophisticated, and old-fashioned. Busy, though calm and lovely. Lily was pulchritudinous. England was...statuesque.

I'd imagine if England could talk it would sound much like her. So bloody British. So headstrong, and stubborn, but pure in a way that's absolutely breathtaking.

Lily's parents were happily...divorced. She had a horse-toothed, bitch of a sister, and really...this whole world outside of Hogwarts that nobody quite realized was there for her.

The Potter's family would love her. Just take her in, and never want to let her go. Being so outspoken, and beautiful, well, my Mum always was more in love with Lily than I was.

I am James Potter, and I tried my hardest to ignore the debutante Lily Evans.

-  
**Normal point of view.**  
-  
"Why are you carrying Evans' bag?" An eyebrow-raised James Potter asked his best friend as he sauntered into Friday breakfast.

"Will give me a reason to talk to her later." Sirius Black grinned, and set down beside Remus, across from James.

Remus Lupin was a sandy-haired boy, with pretty blue eyes. Just, simple, lovely, blue eyes. Nothing more to describe then that. He was handsome.

And Peter wasn't even worth describing.

"She's rather good-looking, isn't she, Padfoot? 'Wonder what could be going on there." Remus offered a slight eye roll, but couldn't help but grin his one-dimpled grin.

"Absolutely nothing, chum. So shut up, yeah. And she's not just rather good-looking. She's rather gorgeous."

James laughed quietly for a moment, his eyes on his plate, so he didn't notice his friends looking at him strangely.

"It's a fact, not an opinion, Prongs." Sirius said flatly, loading up his own breakfast dish.

"James doesn't like Evans much," Remus informed Sirius, who sniggered in response.

"I couldn't tell. Do you often call people you don't even know, judgmental bitches?" Sirius Black always had an airy tone of voice, and it just seemed to work well in situations where akwardness arose.

"Bloody hell, like it matters. I'm just the quiet, Head Boy. S'not like it's going to affect her much." Sirius always seemed to deflate James. James Potter had a way of being quiet, yet the slightest bit arrogant when he was around his friends. But when Sirius spoke to him like he had better smarten up, or stop acting like an ass, or something of the like James's voice went even quieter than normal, going beyond a registered mutter.

James, of course, had his affect on Sirius at times. Both could build the other's confidence up, and knock them down just as quickly. James discovered that you couldn't be friends with Sirius Black, and expect to be a quiet, passive, person. But it's what James was much of the time, so he had to have his own ways of kicking Black where it hurt.

And as mentioned by Sirius before, James throwing a word in before 'asshole' or 'bastard' was meant to be taken quite litterally.

He called him an evil, cunning bastard, once Sirius didn't speak to him for weeks.

So, anyways, Sirius was trying his best to guilt James Potter, just as Lily Evans was making her way to her end of the table...

"Saw Sirius has your bag? Why's that?" Jada asked with a sly grin forming on her lips, as she buttered her toast.

I really wasn't in the mood for her. I saw where Carter's hand was currently sliding up her leg, and as IF she really wanted to talk to me right now Just making conversation. Plus, it was none of her business. Did I ever know when she got a new boyfriend? Or when her PARENTS declared they were getting divorced? Hell, I don't even know when she's mad at me.

So it was none of her business that Sirius had tied my shoes quite well, and had carried my bag in, and hadn't gave it back. None at all. Because there was no business to be hers. There was none to be mine, for christ's sake. It was nothing. Right.

"I don't know." I responded a few minutes too late. She probably didn't even notice me sat there brooding as I shovelled cold, scrambled eggs onto my plate. Whatever.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" She half-giggled, playfully shoving Carter off. Why was I friends with her again?

"He just carried it in for me, I guess. I don't know. Shut up." I twirled my fork around the eggs, and then pushed the plate aside, picking my goblet of orange juice up, and sipping from it.

Jada laughed her cute, little, laugh Which I hated and then whispered to Carter...in a loud voice, so I could hear, but she could pretend like she thought I wouldn't.

"God, PMS much?"

I wanted to cry again, and punch James Potter, and push Jada off some cliff. Not Carter, though. Because he really was sweet. I don't know how she ended up with him.

As she whispered, loudly, to him he made an apolegetic face to me, and shook his head as she giggled more. Good, I hope he dumps her, and just breaks her heart. Of course, then I'll have to hear about it.

I don't know. She's so...attention-seeking. She always has been. When we were 11, and 12ish...everybody thought it was cute. But when you're almost 18, and still whining and throwing yourself at any boy that looks your way...Well. It's not very attractive. People feel sorry for her, I know. Her parents divorced last year. She pretended to take it hard. I don't know if she actually did or not. I don't even know the real her anymore. I used to, and I miss that. She was a sweet person, who used to send you a letter just to see how your day went. God, I don't know what happened, and lately it's becoming apparent to me that I don't bloody well care.

Friends suck. Girls suck. Catty whores. And Sirius's somewhat of an invitation to start hanging out with the Marauders was seeming SO appealing as I stormed to their end of the table, wanting to grab my bag.

I straightened my blouse out, and took a deep breath as I walked quickly down to the Marauders.

"Yes luv?" Sirius asked, while turning around, before he even knew who it was. See? Charm just seeps from him.

"Can I, um, have my school bag?" I asked rather awkwardly. Sirius was...intimidating. Even if it was my school bag.

He laughed for a second, and then picked it up from where it sat behind him. "It is yours. You need not ask, m'dear."

"Thanks." I murmured, feeling James's eyes on me as I took the bag, and I continued my dash-like walk out of the Hall.

"Something the matter, Evans?" On my way to Transfiguration class. High-tailing it, and trying my damndest to avoid anybody's glances, as I wiped furiously at threatening tears.

I'd be about 20 minutes early for class anyways, but I didn't care. God, I didn't care. This is all that seems to matter anymore. Bloody classes. Because everybody else was slowly losing focus, and grasp, and new people were forcing their way through, and I had no idea why it scared me so much. Things changing.

I was never one for change. Unlike Jada, I really did take it hard when my parent's split. It may have been for the better, really, but there went an era. There went everything I knew. Even if all I ever knew was their constant bickering. It's all I remember of my childhood, I swear...

"Evans?" James Potter was half a corridor behind me, but quickly catching up, and conveniently interrupting my thoughts...and pity party.

"What the hell do you want?" I spun around, and rather...spat at him. A couple younger kids walking by started running, and whispering.

His right hand jumped to his right cheek, and he ran his index finger below the frame of his glasses. I had my jaw clenched at the time, and I remember it slowly unclenching and my heart jump for a moment, as I realized that James's nervous habit, or whatever the hell it was...It was the first time he had done it in my presence, because of me.

"I," He faltered as our Charms professor stuck his head out into the Hallway and raised his eyebrows at the two of us. Us being so far apart, James had to rather shout. "Could you come here, maybe?" He lowered his voice, as Flitwick shut his classroom door.

"No." I just didn't want to. I wanted to detach myself from everyone at the moment. The marauders, yeah, were looking appealing more so then Jada but Sirius inparticular was making them looking appealing. Not the one who thought me to be a bitch.

"Listen," He cleared his throat, and took hesitant steps towards me, that echoed loudly in the corridor. "I'm...sorry for calling you what I called you. Sirius told me I made you feel bad. And don't get upset with him for telling me. He just...Well. Apparently you made an impact on him, Evans, and anybody who's good in his books should be good in mine, but I just..." I thought he may elaborate further on his bitch comment, but he didn't. "Maybe we can talk more some time. I don't know. I'm sorry, is all. I couldn't finish eating breakfast, because he said you had been crying, and just...Don't let something I say affect you like that. Heh, really, what am I to anyone? The quiet, guy who hangs out with Sirius. So, just...get over it."

He had went from being rather sweet, to...quiet again, back to sweet, and then rather bitter & asshole-like. I just stood blinking at him, as his nervous-habit-right-hand was now rumpling the hair at the back of his head.

It's something he just did. James had always done it first. Just walking through the halls, trying to distract attention from his face when you were talking to him, or when a girl he liked was near, and he was laughing with his friends. Sirius had picked up on it. James was one of those people who was so intricately detailed that you picked up on his little quirks without realizing it. You started talking like him, thinking like him, and eventually sympathizing with the drama he's had to contend with, and...Then falling in love with him.

But Hell, that's another time. Same story, just...another time.

"Just get over it? Pot,-...James. I don't know what's...with you. I mean that in the gentlest way possible. You f'ing change pages quicker then I can follow. I don't even know if I want to follow. So just, whatever. You apologized, and should've left it at that. See ya later." I adjusted the strap of my bag, and walked away in a huff.

"See you around...Lily." So, so, so, so, quietly...Not in the same sense as a whisper...Just so quietly...Just so...hardly-there...

But he had said it, and as I rounded the corner I stopped walking feeling a rush of emotion, and a stinging at my nose. And James Potter was still standing where he had been when he apologized...

This is my life.

In the common room there were so many sofas, and chesterfields, and chairs. My favourite, though, was by the large fireplace, there was a coffee table, and set on either side of the coffee table were two long couches.

It was gorgeous to just sit there in the evening, curled up with a good book, reading by the firelight. While everyone else conjured up, and lit lamps, lighting the room. But this part of the common room was always...nice and cozy.

I was indulging myself in reading 'Gone with the Wind', and it was the next day. Saturday, at last. It was about 10:30, and everything was so nice, and quiet.

"My Mum always told me I'd go blind if I read by such a dim light." James Potter made his presence abruptly known, as he was stood behind the couch I was curled up on.

"Is that why you have glasses?" I asked, not taking my eyes from the page. Almost lost my place...

"Nope, I'm near-sighted. I don't know when, exactly, she told me that, because I never did read much."

I let the book fall shut, and kept my finger between the pages, marking where I had left off.

"Would you like to sit?" I moved my feet from the couch, and sat up, as James seemed to contemplate just jumping over the back of the couch and plopping down next to me, or walking around the end to come sit next to me.

He chose the more gentleman-like one. Walking around the end, and then to where he could sit next to me, careful to avoid touching the blanket that was draped over my lap.

He was always...doing what he thought other people would approve of. Always being so damn polite, always being on time for class, and always walking around sofas rather then jumping over them. I must say, I almost would've rather if he had jumped over. Something spontaneous. Something a typical 17 year old boy would do.

But hell, James Potter was not a typical 17 year old boy.

I remember...so vividly...the first time he was late for a Transfiguration class. Probably about...December of 7th year. I thought he'd be absolutely mortified, and offer to serve a detention for the old bag, but he just casually strolled in, his hand running through his hair, and he cleared his throat as indication that he had arrived. Professor McGonagall said nothing, just simply waited until he was seated to go on.

Him & I had been up late the night before. But there was still a long way to go before December, and before being late for classes. A couple of months, hardly, but it seemed like forever James-time. Trying to win him over...

_-December 18th, 1977._

* * *

"Is this the craziest thing you've ever done, James Potter?" The wind was blowing lightly, chilling me to the bone, but I just pulled my cloak tighter around me, and adjusted my scarf. 

"I think you'd be surprised at the crazy stuff I've done, Lily Evans." I laughed, as James rubbed his gloved hands together, and blew on them to warm them through the material.

"Well. I'm glad you're doing something crazy with me."

It wasn't crazy. Far from it. We were just out on the grounds at 2 AM in the morning. It was just absolutely gorgeous out. For some reason the fact we had snow just seemed to dawn on me. And the moon was so bright, and almost full...The way it shone off of the snow, and made it sparkle, and twinkle, almost more then the stars in the clear sky...

Breathtaking, I swear.

"I'm glad, too,"

That was the end of that night for me. Him saying he was glad, too. But he went on, you see...

"I mean, I hardly know you," I rolled my eyes at this. He had been saying it often. "We're...hardly friends. But here I am."

* * *

If I had known that in 2 months James would be saying he hardly knew me, and that we were hardly friends...Well. I know I would've continued talking to him, beforehand. And I would've continued trying, but had I known that's only as far as we'd get in 2 months, I would've been so disappointed... 

But I knew he didn't mean it. Knew that he just didn't want to think that we were friends.

"So, immersing yourself in the life of Scarlett O'Hara, mmm?" James leaned his head back until his neck touched the couch, and then he stretched himself out, folding his arms over his chest.

"Not necessarily. Rhett's not really my type." James laughed. I guess he found it amusing I becamse so attached to...characters of a book, that were supposed to be good-looking, or whatever...

"Why's that?"

"Well. He has facial hair. Not a big fan of it." I grinned as James slowly ran a hand over his chin.

"Facial hair is all that it depends on?" He raised his eyebrows.

I sighed. "No, I just...I dunno. He's just not my type."

"Well, my Dad would be your type. He's bald, and facial hair-less."

"Does that worry you, then? Bald-ness."

"He chooses to be bald. Because his hair was...exactly like mine." James chuckled lightly, and tilted his head to the side, rather...gazing at me.

I realized I liked him like this. Just with me. Not...calling me a bitch, and what not. It was almost nice.

"So, what would your typ,-" His question was cut off, as a commotion arose from the boys dorm. Peter came tearing down the stairs, with Sirius Black aiming things at his head with his wand, and shouting at him.

James closed his eyes, and rubbed his brow.

He jogged over to his friends, completely forgetting to finish his question, or even have me acknowledge the fact he was going.

I wasn't really bothered. I just wanted him to finish asking his question...

_

* * *

_

The next month was a cold one, that's for certain. The weather worsened, yet no snow showed itself yet. That was probably one of the worst things there was. Well into November, and well into the negative temperatures, yet no snow. It was depressing in a sense. 

Everything was grey. The grass was dead, and frost-covered, and the trees were bare. The sky didn't often change. Except to allow clouds to billow through.

Homework came steadily, and classes weren't much more challenging then expected. Everybody was comfortable, thus meaning everything was dull, and boring.

Lily Evans hadn't really spoke another word to James Potter since that night. Nor Sirius Black. Casual hello's, but nothing in depth, and to further the beginnings of friendship.

She, also, hadn't paid one bit of attention to a Miss Jada Morgan. Which made things quiet, and boring, but she thought if Jada wanted to bother with their friendship...then she would.

Her & Carter were still seeing one another, though he had requested to see other people.

Things were boring, life was dull, and November was the absolute worst month to have to suffer through.

...And Lily Evans' 18th birthday was on the 12th of that month.

**abc.**

Jada forgot. Everybody forgot. My parents forgot... 


	3. Birthdays & Integrity

**Chapter 3  
**"Birthdays & Integrity"

**abc.**

My sister forgot. My grandparents always sent their letters to my parents, to be further mailed to me, and since my parents forgot, well, I wasn't going to get anything from them.Fucking parents. God damn, fucking parents. They were divorced. I was so glad. So, so, glad. Don't you just expect your bloody MUM to remember the DATE she gave birth to you?

No. No, of course not. No, she forgot. She forgot.

It sucked so fucking much. Sitting there at breakfast on a Monday. Knowing I was 18, but nobody else knew.

To top it all off, I had Potions first class with thoseSlytherins. God, I was in such a horrid mood that I had taken 50 some points from my own bloody house.

Well, if they had remembered my birthday, then we wouldn't have to deal with this, would we?

On my way to Potions with the usual morning crowd around me, and I realized James Potter was to the left of me.

I glanced sideways at him, holding my books tighter against my chest, and chewing my lip. One half-assed conversation, and a month of casual greetings, and here I was waiting for _him_ to say something. Hoping he'd notice me. Wondering what I could do to get his attention. Walking steadily faster, then slower, then faster again.

Being so preoccupied with trying to get James to at least look my way..._I_ wasn't looking as I went to round a corner, and ended up half-crashing into the wall, and stumbling over a short kid, reaching out to the nearest thing to keep me from falling.

Yeah, and that nearest thing was James Potter, and he didn't keep me from falling.

We both ended up sprawled on the cold, stone floor.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no. God, this isn't happening." I bemoaned, not making any attempts to move from the floor, as I covered my face with my hands.

People had stopped for a moment to see why we were on the floor, and if we were dead, or anything, but upon realizing we were in fact alive, and I was just clumsy, they continued on their way.

I waited until there were no footsteps anywhere near me, and then I sat up, and brushing my skirt off.

Putting my hair behind my ears, I saw James leaning against the wall with his arms folded, and his foot tapping almost impatiently.

"You could've left." I muttered, beginning to gather my books, and begging my cheeks to stop burning.

"Just wanted to make sure you'd be able to _walk._ Not to mention get to your next class," He frowned, and peered at me. "Wait, are you drunk?"

I laughed, and I sounded sadistic, and just pretty pathetic.

"I wish." I finished getting my books together, yet stayed sitting cross-legged in the middle of the hallway, facing James.

He was still frowning, and was chewing on his thumb-nail. And staring at me a bit too intently for my liking.

I suddenly became quite self-concious, and tugged on the hem of my skirt trying to have it cover my knees.

"Why are we still sitting here again?" James asked, as if he had known in the first place. But I didn't know, either. He didn't need to say. It would've been easier if he hadn't. How damn embarrassing? But no, he sat with me as long as I stayed sitting there. Fighting off tears, covering my legs, cursing my clumsiness, and for some reason found myself needing to work up courage enough to speak anymore to him.

"You haven't left yet, and I'm not leaving 'til you do, because I'm so bloody embarassed..." I put my face in my hands again, yet heard James laughing softly. I peeked through my fingers, and saw the little smirk on his face.

"You tripped. Nothing to be embarrassed over."

And then it was all so very funny. I began laughing until I was even more red in the face, and found myself pressed up against the cold wall, next to James.

"Tripped? I bloody well...Went flying, and flailing, and sprawling. Oh god." I sighed, and tipped my head to the side, letting my chin rest on my shoulder as I watched James smile, though his eyes staying downcast.

"You did, yes. Flied, flailed, and sprawled." James was quiet again, and fiddling with his hands.

"We should go to class." I half-heartedly suggested, trying to pull my eyes away from his, because he was just so damn mezmerizing. It was incredible.

"I don't really want to today. Screw it." I raised my eyebrows, and wracked my brain for the last time James Potter had missed _a_ class, not to mention a whole day of classes.

Probably never.

"Are you crazy? You have to go, because..." I realized there wasn't much of a reason for him to go. He was Head Boy. He was smart. And he was a Marauder. He should miss class now and then. "Because you've...Because I..." I shrugged. "I dunno. There's nothing to do anyways."

"Good point. We will go. First tell me what's bothering you, though." James was never one to be so...direct. Especially with, well, me. But I must've been really showing through if James was asking.

I guess he noticed how I didn't throw a remark back right away, and must've thought I thought he was prying. He became insecure, once again.

"If I can go that far, and ask that kind of stuff, that is. You don't have to answer. Maybe I've not won you over as much as I thought I had."

I smiled at him. Just honestly smiled, and touched his arm briefly, just to bring his hazel gaze back to mine. "What makes you think you've won me over at all, hmm?" I tilted my head the same direction as his mouth quirked up. To the left.

"You're here now, aren't you?" He said quietly, his almost-smile could even be heard in his voice. His deep, kind of rugged, voice...

"Yes I am. But...Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Honestly, I..." I trailed off. I mean. I didn't want to start whining about it being my birthday, and nobody caring, because then I'd sound like Jada. Only they _actually did_ forget it. But James wouldn't know that, would he? It was just a birthday. Nothing really important. Nothing to bother him over.

But his eyes were reading me, and scanning me, and almost silently pleading with me just to tell him, so he could stop acting so out-of-character.

"How about I tell you it just has...Something to do with...with the date. Today's date." I nodded, and slowly stood. James's eyes never leaving me.

"November 12th...November 12th..." He repeated it a few times, and then frowned. "I'll find out. Don't you worry. I will know by the end of today." James grinned, and we walked to class together.

I walked in a few seconds before him. To look like we had been attending to serious Head duties, but seconds enough apart so the students wouldn't get any ideas about us. There were none to be had.

* * *

Tomorrow was Tuesday, and Tuesdays just suck so massively. All day I just kept thinking of how I couldn't wait for today to be over, and then I'd groan and realize there were still 4 days of this week left. Tuesday. Stupid, stupid, Tuesdays. 

At dinner I looked for some late post, but alas...Nothing. I felt so bloody alone. I had the whole damn castle for company, and James Potter was _so_ sweet today, but I just sat there eating my potatos and chicken, and not even tasting it. It was that absolutely depressing.

When I was a child, birthday's were _everything_. The best day of the year. So fun, and the whole family was together. But it's like that didn't matter anymore. I was gone. I was turning 18. Too bad for me. Learn to suck it up.

And you know what? I fucking well should. I should get over it. Like James said to me that day. Get over it. I'd love to. Get over life. Not care. Move on.

I was stuck in this absolute rut, and hadn't an idea how to get out of it, mainly because it seemed like I wanted to be in it. Wanted to be there, stuck, and lost, alone, and scared. It seemed I would rather be there then be unhappy with people who didn't really care about me. Might as well be alone and satisfied to an extent.

I know I kept swallowing hard before I could take a bite of my food. I know I closed my eyes for too long, and when I opened them wanted to burst at the seams for still being seated in this damn Great Hall. The damn Great Hall, where everything that wasn't great seemed to unfold.

I know I rubbed my temple a few times too many, and I know I mindlessly dropped my fork with a clatter. I know I shook my head, and stared at the fork as if it was a fucking difficult task -- to pick it up.

I know Sirius Black was watching me, and I know I really wished he wouldn't.

He got up from his end of the table, disregarding his plate of food, and he took the empty place next to me. Empty places. Next to me.

"Lily, you don't really look good. Rather sick, actually. Do you want me to..." I cut him off with a bright, false smile, and watery eyes.

"No. No. I'm fine. I just...The potatos taste kind of..." I couldn't think of anything. "Cat-ish."

"Cat fish?" He asked, an eyebrow raised, and looking genuinely confused.

"No. Cat-ish. It's a saying. Like...dry, and without...flavour." I quickly made it up, and it sounded so...stupid.

"Is that what a cat tastes like? No, you've lost me. Ohkay. But don't lie to me, darling. Honestly, you look like you're about to be sick at any given time."

Another moment of weakness passed over me, and my eyes watered more with tears stinging to embark on some tainted journey. I refused, of course.

"It's. Well," I spotted Jada over laughing with the other 7th year girls, and laughed sadly, myself. It was strange how...I just wouldn't tell James. But, you know, Sirius _was_ silently persuasive. One look to me with those azure-blue, eyes and I was gone. "It's my birthday today."

I was sitting there before a quite vied for guy of Hogwarts. Good looking, and just naturally alluring...recherché, really.

And I could hardly imagine how desolated, and just _miserable_ I would look, sat there in front of a handsome-one. A lonely, little, girl.

"Oh no." Sirius's generously lashed eyelids fell shut, and fluttered for a moment. I didn't need to continue. He knew. "Nobody remembered?" He ventured after a couple of minutes of shaking his head, and muttering obscenities under his breath.

"Not a soul." I smiled a tried smile, but ended up pushing my food away, and propping my elbows on the table, in order to cradle my head. "This isn't any fair." I was whining. Whatever. For some reason it was like I would be allowed to whine, or fall apart, more so in front of Sirius than in front of James. Impressions seemed lasting on James, whilst Sirius is so nonchalant that it's like he's seen many-a person lose themselves. As much as James was...the strong, silent type...Sirius allowed more flaws. James was so bloody _without_ flaws that it seemed wrong to ruin, and taint who he was.

"You know what? It's good you hardly ate anything. Because we," He stood up, and ran down to his end of the table -- retrieving his cloak, gloves, and scarf -- and running back to me. "are going to Hogsmeade. C'mon." He tugged me up from my slumped position, and forced me to run out of the Great Hall with him, not letting go of my hand. Attracting attention, I'm sure.

"Sirius," I hissed, my free hand jumping to keep my skirt from flying higher than I wanted anyone to see. It became apparent to me I was quite self-concious around the Marauders. James & Sirius. Fixing my bloody skirt? Pulling it down, so it'd be _longer_? What the hell? "We can't. It's a bleedin' Monday. We're not _allowed_."

And he laughed.

"See, told ya you didn't need permission if you were with a Marauder." I turned to him, and frowned slightly.

Yeah, you didn't need permission when you went through some underground tunnels, had some magic map, _and_ an invisibility cloak. I hadn't recovered from the shock, I don't think. Sirius just up and telling me these...secrets the Marauders have had for...years. It was strange.

"You're crazy. We shouldn't be here." I cracked a smile, though, as Sirius made a comment on how I was sounding more paranoid than James.

We had dashed to the Gryffindor tower, and I went to get my cloak, and other things from the dorm. When I came back down, here he was with a handful of items. I just followed him wherever we went, and only cursed him a few times.

Walking the streets of Hogsmeade when everybody else was stuck back at Hogwarts doing homework, was oddly pleasing. People bustled on by us, and would smile and nod to Sirius, as if he was here much more than on some weekends.

"So. I've already frozen my balls off," Oh god, I shook my head. "So we can stop in at the three broomsticks _after_ we've gotten you a present, hmm? Good."

"What? No. Sirius. Bringing me here is enough, you don't need to _buy_ me anything." He had walked off ahead of me, in the direction of some cozy looking shop. I watch the smirk form on his lips as I caught up with him.

"You're with Sirius Black now, luv. I need to buy you as much as possible, to make up for my lack of emotional input in everyday life," He laughed. "Or so says all of my ex-girlfriends. _Complained_ I bought them too much. Pish posh."

A smile tugged at my lips, and I sighed happily as I shoved my gloved hands into my pockets. So, this was nice. It just...was. There was no denying it.

The snow on the ground was nothing too deep. Just enough to leave a footprint in. It crunched pleasurably under our feet. The sky was a pale blue colour, although there was an overpowering darkness creeping around from the edges of the sky, and soon would completely engulf us. Oh, I wanted to watch the sun set with Sirius. Just because he'd make it...feel nice. If that makes sense. I felt rather beautiful. The air smelled rather beautiful, too. A mixture of stinging cold, sweet cinnamon, and spicy scented-candles. Which seemed to be coming from the shop he was leading me into.

The combination of scents that met my nose was overwhelming. As soon as I took a step in, I took a step back, and allowed my nose to adjust to the aroma-filled air.

Sirius was coughing, and it was a tad fake, though I could understand where he was coming from. It was dizzying.

"Wow." I breathed, my eyes roaming the shop, and it's shelves of candles, and magical looking things, and stuffed bears, and sweets filled the register's counter.

Rich colours, rich smells, and an all-around incredible atmosphere.

I walked down an aisle, and removed my gloves, so I could trace my hands over everything.

A plump woman, with a curly mop of white hair stood at the end of the next aisle. Her smile was warm. And suddenly so was everything about me.

"May I help you?" She asked, in a sweet, but old, voice. I smiled. Sirius did the talking.

"Just looking for something the lady might like for her birthday." He had taken his gloves off, too, and ran a hand back through his brown hair, sending me a grin, as the woman smiled.

"I think I've just the thing." She pursed her lips for a moment, considering me, it seemed, and then dissappeared off a few aisles over.

"Honestly, Sirius, thank you. It's so...warm, and just inviting. I don't want to leave." I tipped my head back to laugh, my cheeks burning due to the heated shop, and my becoming aware of the way Sirius would look to me...

Before any words could leave his mouth, the woman had returned carrying a long, thin, box. She pulled the top off, and showed the contents to Sirius who raised his eyebrows in surprised-approval.

It was a long, dainty, silver necklace. On the end hung a pendant, of the prettiest blue colour. The silver mold embeded the smooth, stone, and I realized...

It was exactly the colour of Sirius Black's eyes.

* * *

Sirius had quickly purchased the necklace, after seeing the look of awe on my face, and he kept it in the backpack he had brought to store the invisibility cloak until we were on our way back to the castle. 

I hadn't thanked him for it yet. I know, it was rude, but I just didn't know _how_ to. The only person to know it was my birthday, and the only person to buy me anything, was this...this boy, who I was starting to see in a completely different light.

Even if we were beginning to talk more, and have some sort of half-assed friendship...I thought him to be a bit of a womanizer, arrogant, and well..._mean._

The day he had tied my shoes for me, a month ago, was when most of those assumptions were put to rest. He wasn't mean. So far from it. Sweet, and charming, with a bit of an arrogant asshole streak in him. But it was amusing.

As far as it goes for being a womanizer, I was slowly deciding that I didn't care if he did have a lot of girlfriends. I could see why. Girls probably just went out with him for the sake of saying they had.

We were a couple of minutes away from the Three Broomsticks, and I stopped walking, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach.

"Sirius," He turned around to face me, and tilted his head to the side, grinning this sort of knowing grin at me.

"Lily." He wasn't going to make this easy, I thought with a sigh.

"Listen, the necklace is...is beautiful, just...I don't know. It's really incredible of you to bring me here. Thank,-" He cut me off, by beginning to walk again...and taking my hand in his as he did so.

My eyes widened a bit, and I tried to blink it away, but it was...different. He had tugged my hand as we ran out of the great hall, but...his pace was slow, and he just seemed to be drinking in everything around him at the moment...Holding my hand.

I hadn't put my gloves back on after we left the shop -- but he had, and there was some tingling warmth spreading from his hand to the very tips of my fingertips.

A shiver wracked my whole body, and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

He pulled the door to the Three Broomsticks open, and smiled a heart-stopping smile at me.

"You're welcome, Lily Evans."

**abc.**


	4. The Sexiness of a Voice Lost

**Chapter 4  
**"The Sexiness of a Voice Lost"

**abc**.

It was so nice being one of the only people in the pub tonight. There were some people up at the bar, sittingon bar stools, getting drunk off their arses. But we were the only younger ones. Hogwarts students.

Sirius led us to the front of the place, to the register, where a then-young, and very pretty Madame Rosmerta was serving up the drunks, and wiping clean glasses.

"'Lo m'dear." Sirius greeted the barmaid. Rosmerta smiled at Sirius, and set down the glass she was wiping, going to the register to ring in what we were to order.

"Shouldn't you be in school, Sirius." She said airly, observing me briefly, and flashing me a smile, as well.

"Of course. Now, we'll have...Well. I'll have a butterbeer,-"

"Hot cocoa for me." I added.

"Ohkay, and...I've not an idea what I want to eat. Mmm. Something good. Fries, with ranch dressing, or something."

"Double it." I nodded, laughing a bit.

Because I didn't know if the Three Broomsticks even served fries with ranch dressing. Ranch dressing on fries? What the hell?

Sirius dug around in his pocket for the money with his hand that wasn't currently preoccupied with clasping mine. Still.

He laid it on the counter, and we made our way over the booths against the left wall.

He allowed me to slide in first before sitting himself. Where I thought would be on the opposite side of the table, but he slid into the seat next to me.

Briefly, his hand let go of mine, to tug his gloves off, and lay them on the table, and then he picked it back up, keeping them clasped on the table.

His fingertips gently tickled the back of my hand, and then using his index finger only, he traced it up and down each of my fingers, still managing to keep a grip on my hand.

He hadn't pulled his lovely grey-blue eyes away from my hand yet, and when he spoke it was in a bit of a murmur.

"I realize I'm acting like I'm obsessed, but I've always had a bit of a thing for holding hands. And yours are so...pretty." He pulled his eyes up to mine, and cracked a smile. "And I'm probably making you feel uncomfortable."

He made to let go of my hand, but I 't help but keep it squeezed in place.

"You're not," I assured. "I swear, you're not."

I watched him, as he watched my hand, softly tickling my palm, and brushing his fingertips elegantly over my whole hand. Normally, I would've been laughing at the showering tickles, but there was something pertubedly serene, and calming about it.

I shivered, and he finally let my hand fall loose, as the food & drinks came to the table just at the same time.

"Never realized french fries & ranch dressing could taste so good." I grinned, and Sirius chuckled a bit.

"I have a feeling you're making fun of my love." He dipped a few more fries in the dressing, and ate them.

"Your love? Wow." I took another small bite from the fries, and surrendered to sipping my hot chocolate.

"So," His voice was thick, and he tipped his head from side to side as he finished chewing. "What's it feel like, being eighteen?"

"Mmm, I don't know, I've only been it for a few hours. I'm going to assume not much different. Maybe even worse than the rest of the teen years. I mean..." I was going to start complaining again. I didn't know whether or not I had the right to. "It's weird, I guess. My mum not...sending me anything for my birthday. I dunno..." I trailed off, as Sirius leaned back against the back of the seat, and cricked his neck, putting his hands behind his head, and sighing quietly.

"Not sure my Mum ever acknowledged one of my birthdays." I froze, and went cold.

God, I was so fucking stupid. Sirius Black's home life sucked. You pick things up over the years, and when Sirius Black is in Gryffindor, and his brother & relatives are in Syltherin, it makes you start putting things together. I don't know how he stood it there.

Later, of course, I found out that Sirius Black lived with the Potter's for the majority of the time he wasn't at Hogwarts, and in his 6th year was left a fortune from an uncle, or someone, who died and actually cared for him. Along with that fortune was a house.

After I came to find out that James & Sirius had lived together -- like brothers -- it hit me as to why I always admired them so much.  
It sounds absolutely ridiculous, admiring them for having such a friendship when for some years I didn't even speak to them...But it was just how they were, that left me...yearning for it, almost.

I mean, yes, they were typical, potty-mouted, boys. But they had obtained a friendship so unlike any I had seen. They...they cared. You could tell they cared. The way they non-ceasingly stuck up for one another. The way they'd give each other a clap on the back when passing between classes. The way one could give a simple nod, and the other would smile, or laugh, as if that nod had said thousands.

The way they'd fight, and would brood over it for weeks, until they stopped being so bloody stubborn, and both were forced to apologize by Remus. Remus was probably the backbone of the Marauders some of the time. But Remus will be...later.

For Sirius & James are right now.  
When James's grandfather died, Sirius was as devastated as his best friend, and they both went to the funeral. When Sirius had come back from the summer of 2nd year -- perhaps the only summer he had spent at home -- bruised & beat up, James cussed his bloody head off, and called his best friend every name in the book, because apparently he was stupid enough to go back there.  
He was hardly thirteen, for christ's sake. But when James called Sirius on something, which he didn't often do, Sirius damn well took note of what he was doing wrong, and he fixed things.  
He fixed the abuse by leaving the fuckin' Black family, and seeking redemption with the Potter's.

Their friendship was incredible, and in later years often left me with shining tears, filled with admiration.

* * *

"God. I'm sorry. I'm going on like some kind of idiot, just..." I sighed. "I don't know. I'm quite selfish, I think." 

Sirius smiled, and ran a hand through his hair, before letting his head tip back to rest on the edge of the seat.

"You're quite wonderful, really, Lily Evans. A girl who...had it all. And it all was ripped away, and you're left on your eighteenth birthday with not a card of proof, and only the company of a stranger."

I honestly did look around me, looking for the stranger who was in my company, before realizing it was Sirius.

Maybe he was right, in the sense that we hadn't delved that far into each other's lives yet. And we hadn't exchanged worst childhood memories, and we hadn't poked much fun at James's quiet ways. But we had talked of birthdays, shopped, and shared a meal. If it snowed -- the second snow of the season -- things would just seem to be set right.

Yeah, Sirius was a stranger because we hadn't known each other properly enough to see the snow fall together, but...  
In that moment, with him basked in the slightly-quivering light of the Three Broomsticks, he seemed to be the only person in the whole, wide, world that I did know. And I felt I knew him well.

* * *

It came as a surprise to me, when I was finishing my hot chocolate that I felt something gently pressing against my knee. 

And Sirius's left hand was gone beneath the table...

I didn't know what to think, and I felt bloody stupid for giving a startled "oh!", and slopping some of my hot chocolate onto the table.

Sirius was hungrily finishing off his fries, and didn't seem to notice my sudden awareness of his hand. His warm hand pressed against my knee. His warm hand pressed against my knee, and his roughened thumb making small, fucking irresistible, circles against it.

I bit my lip, and looked at Sirius from the corner of my eye. Oblivious to my almost-freaking-out state. Almost freaking out, because I thought I liked the feel of his hand much too much.

"Mmm," I cleared my throat, and he finally turned to me. "Um. Your hand is...Well. What's...that mean, then? Your hand on my knee?"

This, for whatever reason, seemed to offend him, and shatter his demeanor. "Oh, absolutely nothing, Evans."

James, I thought, was the only one who jumped back to last-name basis.

Sirius stood up, grabbing his backpack, and slinging it over his shoulder, shoving his hands deep in his pockets, before storming out through the door, and there was the ding of a bell...

I noticed, though, that he was still smooth enough to offer a little wave to Rosmerta up at the bar, and one of his smiles...

What?

I didn't tear out of the door after him for a moment, but when I did, I tore fast.

"Sirius," I called breathlessly, flinging my scarf about my neck. "What was that about?"

"I don't know!" I hadn't expected him to spin around, and come back like that, but he did. A hand flew through his hair, and he breathed heavily -- it floating up in the frosty air for us both to see.

"I'm so fucking frustrated with this," He turned away from me, and his shoulders rose and fell with is breathing. "If a girl doesn't want my hand on her knee, well, normally I wouldn't really give a shit," He spoke sharply, and was gesturing wildly. "But...but you. There's something about this that's going to have me fucking insane before the year's out!"

I knew my eyes were wide, and I was blinking excessively to try to make that less noticable. But I had never seen Sirius Black lose everything that was himself, in a moment. He was so smooth. So unflawed, even though beneath it all he was full of 'em. But his smooth way of things just made you forget that. Made you forget he's probably seen more then any of us ever will. If there was ever a definition of who was "cool" and who wasn't, Sirius Black would be that definition. It sounded childish, and whatever else, but he was here he was, losing that cool, because...I drove him insane.

I couldn't help but feel the slighest bit proud over that, as the world seemed to fall down, and everything ultimately changed. Time had flew, and I was standing there.

As light-hearted, and proud as I was feeling I didn't know what to say. I couldn't say "haha, i make you insane, that just floats my boat, and makes me happier than anything", but I couldn't say that I didn't mean to, or something. I felt a bit hurt, as well. I mean, it's not my fault I had no idea he was experiencing all sorts of different emotions.

"Well, sorry about that, then." I pursed my lips slightly, shoving my bare hands into my pockets, and waiting for him to respond.

And he did so with a shrug, and a gruffness to his voice. "Whatever." He adjusted the backpack on his shoulders, and turned away in the opposite direction, trudging off through the snow.

The sparkling, light, snow that was becoming blanketed with...with more snow. I had just felt my eyelashes grazing my cheeks as I let my lids fall shut, and then was wide-eyed looking up at the sky and the millions of bloody huge snowflakes, falling slowly, almost spiralling down to Earth.

He stopped for a moment, ran a hand through his hair, and I swore to God he was going to turn around...

* * *

I went back to the castle alone. Cold, and alone, and without that amazing invisibility cloak to keep me from getting caught. And without knowing how to get back into those secrets passages. So I was walking back to Hogwarts the proper way, and the snow hadn't stopped falling, and Sirius still had my necklace. Sigh, things changed so damn fast. He had made my birthday. Just bloody made it matter, and made it happy, and I was happy, but in a split second it had...changed. Because stupid emotions, and potential-crushes, and boys, and girls, and dhfjkdhfjkhdfjdfh...They all get in the way. My mind was a mess. 

Such a mess, in fact, that I had wandered into the castle -- When did it become ten after eleven, and well past curfew? -- and walked straight up to Gryffindor Tower without a second thought of to keep it quiet, or keep an eye out...But I had managed, so whatever.

I managed until Gryffindor Tower, and I could see the portrait of the Fat Lady in the pink dress...I suddenly became aware of my surroundings...my feet were carrying me...I was in the home stretch...

"Miss Evans?" Her voice was always rather high, and at times uneven. Curt, and strict, and with an air of curiousity, as if we might have a good reason for whatever it was the person was doing.

Dear ol' Professor McGonagall.

I plastered a smile on my face, cursed myself for not having my Head Girl badge on, and then turned around to face the woman. "Professor. How are you this eve,-"

Her thin lips turned upwards in a satisfied smirk. "Out after curfew with no good reason, Miss Evans? Is that a trail of slush you've got on your shoes? Care to explain where you've been...?"

"Uh," I looked to the portrat hole just feet away. I could run in, and lock her out...Oh damn, she'd know the password...Think of something...think of something...Not like I wasn't already being horribly obvious...

"She was with me, Professor. Y'see this one first year wouldn't go to bed until we found the stuffed animal she lost. Outside, yes. Some little brat dropped it out the window. So I've just been calming her down, and Lily was out there looking," He turned to me, with his eyebrows raised. "Didn't find it, Lily?"

"Um. No, no. I think the bear was white, and it's just started snowing again...Maybe they just hid it on her... The kids..."

Professor McGonagall seemed convinced. Oh my God. My ass was just saved. "Kids and their sentimental attachments, mmm? Well. Goodnight. Perhaps put your badge on next time you've got some duties, Miss Evans."

She turned around, her long robes sweeping behind her, and the sound of her shoes hitting the floor echoed down the empty corridor for minutes after she dissappeared from our sight.

"Oh God," I wiped my forehead which was sleek. "Thanks, James."

He sent me a smile. "You're welcome," He was, in fact, wearing his badge. "I'm just off to the kitchens, because I'm starved. Do you want to come? You don't need your badge if you're with me."

I bit my lip. My only intentions had been dissappearing off to my dorm for the rest of the week, and putting Sirius Black on some kind of hit/ignore list.

But James Potter was in a pair of blue & green plaid, pajama pants, and a grey sweatshirt, looking delicious & warm, and friendly. James. Friendly. Saving my ass. Inviting me along.

I couldn't resist, and I could go for another cup of cocoa, as it was.

* * *

It was amazing what these boys knew about this school. So amazing. Maybe it was childish, and trivial, and something that could get them burned if they were ever found out, but...All of the secrets, and passages were in the school so weren't they there to be found? The map Sirius had used earlier -- they made it. Incredible. I was in awe. They were brilliant bastards with a bit too much time on their hands, and it was amazing. 

I think I was in love with, from the start, how smart James was. Challenged me. Put in me in my place. Amazed me.

We walked in a bit of a silence, but it was oddly enjoyable, and nice. I wanted to be as comfy looking as James, though. I was wearing a pair of dark-blue jeans, and a white sweatshirt with the brands name written over it in navy writing. I had abandonned my cloak, scarf, and gloves. Just had the Fat Lady swing open, and threw them in.

But James made casual look, somehow, handsome & debonair.

We were just going down the marble staircase leading to the Entrance Hall, when James, well, I guess decided maybe it was a bit of his business to know where I really was. I honestly didn't think he ever was going to ask. He'd start to speak, clear his throat, and then blush furiously. So damn quiet, the poor dear.

"Um. So. Where were you really tonight, Evans? I kinda thought maybe with Sirius, because my invisibility cloak, and the map was missing..." He trailed off as he led me down a corrdior. I didn't say anything, because he was grinning. "Thought so. You're not surprised by the invisibility cloak, so you must've been with him."

I laughed lightly. "That I was." And said nothing more of it 'till much later.

* * *

We were sitting amongst some adorable house elves, helping ourselves to toast & honey & biscuits & bagels & cookies & my hot chocolate. 

They were all infatuated with Mr Potter, too, so it was even more adorable.

"You drinking hot chocolate is rather lovely. I don't know. It just matches your..." He trailed off, tilting his head and squinting his eyes. "Your hair. Your hair's red. Like fire. And fire's warm, as is hot chocolate. So you & hot chocolate are destined."

I think that night was the first time James & I shared laughs. It was...it was what I needed.

It was well after midnight, and we were wandering the corridors, on our way back to the tower, and again I was failing to remember we weren't to be out, and I wasn't quiet as I laughed at almost everything that James said.

Everything was so surprisingly funny with him. He was out after curfew. He was living up to his Marauders name, with me. Yeah, I know, out after curfew not that big of a deal. But I was surprised. When James always said that he did cause trouble, he wasn't lying. He had told me some stories of their times, and I was warming up to him even more.

* * *

The fire in the common room was still roaring warmly, and lighting a bit of the room, causing the shadows to dance. I sighed as we entered, and I kicked my sneakers off, rushing over to the sofas nearest to the hearth, and settling myself against the cushions. It was indescribable how at home I always felt here, and how at home I felt with James, rather like I felt with Sirius. 

James sighed, and settled next to me, noting his Invisibility cloak draped over the arm of the couch.

Good. Good. I had actually started to worry of whether or not Sirius had came back.

"Something happen tonight, Evans?" I met his gaze, and he quickly turned it back to his fumbling hands. "I mean," He muttered nervously. "Lily."

Oh. I...Oh. I thought he was going to correct his question, or make it more polite, or even take it back altogether. But. Lily. Hmm.

It sounded nice when he said it.

"Yeah. Well. I s'pose. I dunno. Sirius confused me, basically. The evening was just...friendly. And suddenly he's...taking my hand, and putting his on my knee, and telling me I drove him insane, and storming off. I...I don't know. I was quite lost, to tell you the truth. And hurt, for one reason or another."

That one reason or another being...how well things were going on my forgotten birthday, and how Sirius Black made it temporarily worthwhile, and then took it all back.

"Because...well..." He trailed off, and looked to the fire, the light dancing in his eyes, and bringing him to life in a way I hadn't realized...his eyes were so...the way it shone...

I started crying. Just...sobbing. Trying to stifle them, and just sounding more like an idiot as I gasped & choked on my own breath.

James Potter looked at me so quickly I thought I had given him a heart attack, but then his face turned from alarmed, to...to soft. Sympathetic.

Sympathy. I hadn't thought I deserved it. I didn't. Sirius didn't really give it to me. Just related to me. Was I too weak & pathetic to begin with to deserve a bit more sympathy?

I didn't care, because James Potter was sympathetic looking, and I just wanted to die for him right there.

"God, Lily," There was that pretty word again. "I..." He knew. He...he knew. "I know. I mean," He sighed heavily, and I wanted to do the same. "I spent all bloody day sneaking around the castle, without my cloak, trying to figure out how to sneak into Dumbledore's office and read your file,"

Between my crying I gave a bit of a surprised gasp. He was going to go nosing around my files, that could contain personal information? That was the most un-James-like thing ever...

"No, no. No. Not nose into your past, or something. Trust me, I've seen my file a hundred times. First page is just a picture, and your name, gender, and date of birth. The other pages is all of the good stuff," The side of his mouth quirked into a bit of a grin. "You wouldn't believe what I had to do to Snape that was bad enough to get me sent to Dumbledore's office," He didn't elaborate on that. "And then once I was in I had to have Remus & Peter do some other random act of vandalism to get Dumbledore called out, and then I accio'ed your file, saw your date of birth, and..." His smile faded, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

I gave a shaky sigh, that tasted so heavily of uncried tears. "It's ohkay." My voice was hoarse from crying, and James was smiling a bit again.

"I'm sorry, again, for what I'm about to say," James Potter loved to apologize. "But I always love when other people -- girls -- lose their voices. It's," He shrugged those broad shoulders, and leaned back against the cushions of the chesterfield. "It's sexy."

I laughed, and smiled, and cried some more. And as I finished that damn crying, I felt James's lovely, warm hand find my back, and begin to tickle & rub my back gently, just along the spine...up and down...

"Happy Birthday, Lily Evans." He said quietly, the movement of his large hand making me dizzy with urges & sleep.

His hand, alone, was so protective. He just continued his pattern, up and down, and I felt as if that one hand was covering everything that was me, and hiding it from anyone standing behind me, onlooking, pointing out my flaws, and discovering them.

I looked up into his almond-shaped, rather wide, and trustworthy hazel-green eyes, and was overcome with such mind-spinning warmth that I almost toppled over. I couldn't help but wonder how protective the rest of him would feel, pressed flush against me, hiding me completely...

James Potter won me over that night, and I don't think he ever knew how. That Tuesday morning...Just gone 1, and the fire was slowly dying...

Together there, in the growing darkness of the common room, finding out so much more than I think I even wanted to...

There was something he emotionally did to me that night that never really left. Ever.

**

* * *

**


	5. Darling & Friends

**Chapter 5  
**"Darling & Friends"

**Left off with Lily and James sitting together...  
_--  
_  
**The Common Room was warm, even if the fire was fading fast, and leaving the corners dark, and uninviting. James was apparently too warm, as he tugged his grey sweatshirt off.

I, of course, noted that he was wearing a white t-shirt on underneath, and it lifted up to his chest as he took his sweatshirt from 'round his neck.

The light was dim, and my eyes hadn't much time to wander, but dammit you could tell he was near perfect. I blinked, and looked away from him, as he seemed aware of my wandering eyes.

"Hem," He cleared his throat, and ruffled his hair, and I leaned my head back against the couch, tilting it and watching him. "It's...I should fix the fire."

I watched him approach the hearth, and I was shivering violently. I pulled the sleeves of my thin sweatshirt down over my hands, and felt my eyelids weigh down.

My nerves seemed to be on end, I hadn't an idea why this simple, nice, moment was making me so nervous.

James Potter.

And his sweater was lay a mere inch away...I pulled it on, almost surprised at the smell of musky cologne, and shampoo -- near the neck. His hair had been damp earlier. It seemed he had just showered, and my mind did all kinds of wondering.

He gave me a small smile as he had brought the fire back to life, and came to stand at the end of the couch. I curled my legs up on the couch, putting my hands between my knees to keep them warm, and I yawned as I snuggled my head into the back cushions.

I thought he was going to leave me there to fall asleep, the way he was giving me a bit of a soft & understanding stare. But he sat back down where he had been sitting...

Though the space had become smaller what with my curling up. And he was closer than I had ever been to him.

His shoulder bumped against my face, and he turned it, allowing me to lift my head up, and then fall against his shoulder.

His left arm, the one I was half-leaning against, as if because of some instinct, came to wrap over the span of my shoulders, and draped down to my collarbone on the other side.

I shifted, my head snuggling closer, and he propped his feet up on the coffee table, apparently becoming comfortable himself.

I rose my hand to touch his own, to rub along his gruff yet somehow soft one.

And it felt fine. And nice. And James hadn't fled yet, though did turn quiet. I didn't care. He was there. Letting me sit with him, becoming closer -- litterally not emotionally, yet.

It _was_ good to know that...that it was out of my control. I could mess up pretty hardcore, but I didn't control everything. Depending on how you looked at it...Things control us.

"Happy birthday...to you..." He mindlessly traced his hand up and down my shoulder. "Happy birthday to you...Happy birthday, dear Lily...Happy birthday to you..." His voice was soft, and not even really singing, but held half a tune. Hear him singing happy birthday...

I shook my head, and sighed near his neck. "Thank you."

The top of my head was pressed against his jaw, and I felt rather then saw him smile. He didn't say anything, and it was just a blatant reminder of who he was, you know? He might be warm, and smell like shampoo & cologne, but not overwhelmingly so, and he might be sweet, and nice, and sympathetic and soft, and allowing me to be leaned against his side, not hiding my obvious affection towards him at the moment...But he was still James. James Potter, and he was still quiet, and remarkably insightful, but you wouldn't know it, because he was so confined, and...and incredible. Quiet, but incredible.

He was my own little mystery after that night.

"So, James...Do you have a brother? Or a sister?"

He smiled. "A sister. She's 5."

"Five? Oh, wow...Hem." I grinned, and James chuckled softly.

"Yeah, her name's Alexandria Rose. We call her Lexi. My dad had black hair, and I have his black hair, and my Mum has dark brown hair, but when she was younger it was blonde, and curly. And go figure, Lexi gets the blonde curly hair. And big blue eyes. God, she's adorable."

"What's your Mum's name?"

"Danielle. She's called Dani. And my Dad is Jude." --A/N: I couldn't resist, LoL.--"What's your middle name, James Potter?"

He laughed lightly into my hair, and the oddest sensation met me as he seemed to inhale gently.

"I'm not telling you."

My Mum's name was Violet & my Dad's name was Ethan, but by the time James got around to asking me that, he grinned and said he already knew.

There was something about him just...then, and there, and with me...That was so different. So open, and incredible, and I had no idea if he'd ever be like this again with me, so I took hold of the oppurtunity. Just basked in it, and stayed there with him until my eyes were drooping, and my head was rather lolling on his shoulder.

"You're tired, Lily Evans." He said softly, shifting his arm from around me, and helping me stand.

"Mmm. Incredibly. We can keep talking if you'd like..."

Because that's what we had been doing. Just...just talking. Nothing too much. If I asked him something too personal he'd just shake his head, and say "I'm not telling you". Good-naturedly, but I knew he meant it.

"No, you're a second from sleep, and I think it'd be rather insulting for you to fall asleep while I was talking to you. There will be plenty more time for it, darling." He was twisting his shoulder & arm uncomfortably, and clenching his fist, and what not.

"Is your arm asleep?" I asked, laughing hoarsely. He said there'd be more time for it. Sigh, good, he wasn't going to write me off completely.

"It's gross how it tingles." He murmured, looking to it, and I smiled tiredly at him.

He walked me to the foot of the girls staircase. "Goodnight. Happy Birthday."

"Gooooodniiiiiggghhhht." I whispered, drawing it out as I smiled one last time at him.

As I readied myself for bed, I 'accidentally' shut the drawer on my dresser a bit forcefully, and Jada abruptly sat up, awake. She blinked, peering at me, and then looking to her clocked cursed in surprise.

"What the fuck are you doing getting in at this hour..." By this time I had pulled my pajamas on, and reached my bed, crawling quickly in, and pulled the hangings shut without answering her.

I was drained of energy. I had none. It was such a pleasant feeling, though.

My mind was completely blank, and it was rather blissful. I couldn't think of anything, and no details of the evening were jumping to my brain, and causing me to worry. Ohkay, so Sirius did whatever he had done, but I think it was a bit of a revelation to me. And I was assured by James that he wouldn't hold a grudge, or something, because he seemed to be feeling _something_ towards me.

And so I was alright. Just laying there, seemingly one with my soft matress. James's hand had ventured up and down my back for so long that the feeling hadn't quite yet gone, and it was the last thing I remembered thinking about before I was to sleep. How many girls could say James's hand had been on their back, massaging gently...Well, probably not many. Seeming he didn't go beyond a kiss until the fourth date, and seeming he wasn't all for public displays of affection. So I was basking in the thought of me being the only one James would have touched in such a calming way...

Picture a day where everything's _fiiine_. Just imagine it. The sky is grey-ish blue, and it's not that horribly cold out. The sun's there, and the day might even be considered mild. Your hair looks good when you wake up, and you just run a brush through it after showering. You've decided your legs look quite acceptable in your uniform skirt, and you can't help but wonder if those two handsome boys will notice the lack of length in it, after you magically hem it up to above your knees.

It's a Tuesday, and those suck, but everybody's so bubbly, and you're wondering if you're the one that was contagiously happy, and if you're spreading it around to everybody. Everybody's smiling, and you've never used the word 'fantastic' as much as you're using it today.

That's so totally what today was like for me. I just woke up, and as late as it had been that I went to bed, God, I was so refreshed...

"What class do we have first?" I asked to nobody inparticular as breakfast ended, and the students filed out of the hall. Being the stupid head girl, I had to stand and wait until everybody had left and make sure no 1st years were trampled to death, or something.

So, James Potter being the Head Boy to my Head Girl, was the closest one to me, also watching the students leave the great hall.

"Care of Magical Creatures. We're outside today. Good thing you brought your cloak." I smiled, and stood beside him, folding my arms across my chest the same way his were folded. Though his chest was much more broad, and strong...

"I hate being Head Girl." I laughed, and put my hair behind my ears, as I saw James's eyes travelling over the cloak I held in my arms, then down further to my legs.

I don't know. I wanted to...feel beautiful. Feel pretty, and attractive, and so my skirt was the slightest bit shorter. Not a big deal. I just didn't know _why_ I seemed to be striving to be so attention-seeking of two particular boys.

Sirius was passing by us along, with Remus & Peter, and instead of following the straight path the kids were walking through to the doors, he came over to where James & I were, off to the side.

He said hello to James, and gave me a rather small, almost apologetic smile, before leaning in close to my ear and whispering in it.

"Shouldn't your skirt be a bit longer?" His eyes trailed impassively down my legs, and within a second he was gone, walking through the doors to the foyer.

James raised his eyebrows at me, with a grin on his face. "You two ohkay again, then?"

I shrugged, my eyes wide as I did so. "We didn't talk or anything. Apparently wearing your skirt a bit shorter can fix anything."

James laughed, and walked a step behind me as we left the hall together.

Our Care of Magical Creatures class took place, usually, near the edge of the forest, where our Professor would unveil all kinds of rather intimidating creatures. I, nor the other girls, liked this class much.

The lawn down towards the forbidden forest sloped a bit, and with the fresh snow it would be impossible to walk down without slipping & sliding and you were one of the lucky ones if you didn't land on your bloody arse. The Marauders, without fail, always had Peter and at least one another rolling down the bit of a hill. Amusing, but not if it was you yourself.

I put my cloak on, and held it around me to block out the slight breeze. James & I had caught up with the others by now, and as the lawn started sloping...

James's hand jumped to the small of my back.

It seemed a thousand nerve ends lay there, and everything about me became warm & tingly. Well, even though his intentions weren't to make me warm & tingly, they were more to have a bit of a grip on me so I didn't tumble down.

A few girls looked our way as they trudged through the snow, and I glanced up at him, the sun rather blinding me, but he looked adorable anyways.

"Be careful here." He muttered. There was a slight bump in the snow, and beneath it was a rock, but you couldn't tell until you were practically on top of it, so James's hand pressed more firmly against my back, and he led me around it.

A cloud passed over the sun, and I took that given oppurtunity to gaze up at him again. His brow was furrowed with apparent concentration, and his nicely defined jaw was clenched gently. His hair was so black, and he rad,-

"Oh, Jesus, Lily." I slipped just as we were reaching the end of the slope-y hill, and was falling backwards until James's hands flew from my back up to under my arms and catching me before I hit the ground.

"Oomph." I mumbled, landing hard on my backside. Sirius had stumbled down the hill just behind James, and he bumped into him, sending him off his feet, and causing him to drop me.

"Sirius, would you stay the hell out of the way!" James snapped, standing up and brushing snow off himself.

He didn't bother offering me a hand, as Sirius did first, and I suddenly felt very caught in the middle...

Of something I had not meant to create.

James didn't talk to me for the rest of the day. Whether by choice, or just he knew how awkward it had become, and thought maybe it best to share me, or something.

Those were my thoughts. Sirius & James were best friends, and I wanted very greatly to be James's best friend, and I wanted Sirius around as much as possible. How was I going to...going to do that? I wondered if they cared as much of me being their friend as I cared of them.

It's not as if I knew them well enough to say I was absolutely in love with their presence alone, and I couldn't say whether I preferred James or Sirius, and I couldn't know whether I was feeling maybe a bit more towards them...

I was thinking so intently, sitting there at supper time, that I hadn't heard my name being repeatedly said. "Lily, Lily, Lily..."

I blinked, and knocked my goblet over with the surprise of somebody quite near to my face, and quite loud.

T'was Jada. I scrunched my face up, and slid down the bench, ignoring my spilled water, and sending her an incredulous stare.

"What do you want?" I asked, as she appeared to be studying my face hard.

"I dunno. How are you." I raised my eyebrows at the question, that was so completely lacking any emotion.

She did this. Tried to buddy up again, and then start nosing around in my business. My head slid to my hands, and I groaned. She was going to ask of the Marauders.

"Again, what the hell do you want?"

She shrugged. "Can't a friend talk to a friend?"

I laughed bitterly, and shook my head, gathering my things and standing up. "Jada, just..._please_ don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. I swear I'm not."

It was incredible, sitting there that night in the common room attempting to complete my Transfiguration homework. It was incredible, because, I just seemed to realize how very much I sucked at this subject.

It was 8 o'clock, and the common room was buzzing. People were everywhere, laughing, arguing, finishing homework. There wasn't much quiet, and I wasn't authorized to _make_ them be quiet until 9 o'clock at the earliest.

I rubbed my temple, and cursed the damn parchment laying in front of me. Ugly f'ing parchment. And today had been so pretty, and happy to begin with...

I was -- as usual -- sitting over by the fireplace, and leaning up against the couch, but sitting on the floor, my stuff spread out over the low coffee table.

Jada hadn't tried to speak to me again. Nor had James. Sirius, though, seemed to be in an absolutely spiffing mood.

"Hey Lily," He cleared his throat as he brought me from my reverie, sitting on the couch behind me.

"Hey there, Sirius." I set my quill down, and turned the best I could to look at him sitting there.

"Listen I," He fumbled with something shoved into his pocket, and then pulled out a quite familiar looking box. I couldn't help but smile. "I meant to give this to you last night, as it was, but I dunno, I went all prat-like. So...here you are." He went to hand it to me, but I swept my hair over my shoulder, and asked him to put it on.

He seemed hesitant.

"Y'know, I don't think I could manage the clasp as it is. My...yeah. He set the necklace down on the table, and I frowned slightly at him, as he smiled a tight-lipped smile before sauntering off.

I shook my head, and blinked just telling myself...Boys.

11 o'clock that night and I had surrendered to the couch a hundred times, not wanting to finish my homework that had been sitting on the same table for...hours.

I was lay on my stomach, staring at the books & parchment, just wishing it to dissappear...

'Course not.

In the next half hour scrawled some stuff down. It made sense. Whatever. I was Head Girl for a reason, wasn't I? Uh, because my marks were good _last_ year, maybe, but whatever. I tried.

At a quarter to twelve I realized I was completely alone, and I smiled. It felt nice. Almost as nice as this morning felt.

I sighed, and settled into the couch cushions, laying on my stomach again, just watching the fire dance and leap, making me drowsy with some kind of warmth that only these very few things could create...

A warm fire during the bitch month -- November. A cup of hot cocoa, getting up early and basking in that fact -- but you have to be warm when you wake up early, because it's absolutely depressing when you wake up early and are freezing. And leaning your head on a boys shoulder when you just want to let every last thing on the Earth be good to you, and consume you, and why not surrender to the enemy, just for a moment, because the enemy just happens to have a very comfortable, and fitting shoulder. And a kiss. A soft, sweet kiss. All bring that warmth.

I heard some rustling, and movement, and well...I hadn't been as quite alone as I thought.

I had seen him sitting there throughout the evening, y'know. Just...reading. For hours. Only talking to Remus, ignoring Peter, and rolling eyes to the loud, and attention-given Sirius.

He'd send me glances, which I'd try to ignore, because I hadn't an idea whether the glances were...i'll-give-you-a-smile-if-our-eyes-meet ones, or if they were you-are-getting-between-me-and-my-best-friend-and-i'm-a-brilliant-bastard-so-i-could-destroy-you...

James Potter was intimidating in his own, reserved, way.

And apparently that love for sleep he had _during the day_, didn't stand true at night. I hadn't seen him go to the dorms earlier than midnight...

He came over and stood behind the couch, and I had my face pressed sideways into a pillow, being entranced by the fire. But I knew he was there. You get the strangest feeling when a new presence is near you, or somebody's watching you.

"Sleep's highly overrated, yeah?" I muttered, rubbing my eyes, and willing myself to sit up.

"I've been sat there like some pansy-ass for the entire evening wondering whether or not I should speak to you." He spoke so quietly I had to replay what he said in my mind a few times in order to figure out what it had been.

"Why wouldn't you just come over and talk to me? I needed saving from homework." I yawned, and sat up, smiling at him, and knowing my hair was tosseled, but just felt so damn comfortable when he was around.

James leant against the couch, muttering something, his gaze focused entirely on his hands.

I tilted my head and grinned gently, as if I could coax it out of him a bit louder. "Pardon? I didn't hear you."

He ran a hand through his hair, and then tilted his head back, staring up, and swallowing hard. His adam's apple was just then apparent to me, and it was bobbing noticably...

"I said, I think we're getting in deep here."

I raised my eyebrows slightly, a bit shocked, I guess. Chewing the corner of my mouth, I patted the couch cushion.

"Come sit." His jaw was clenched, and he swallowed again, seeming to memorize the expression on my face at that moment.

He came and sat, and every intense feeling that was there the night before had returned. Sat on the same couch, in the same position. James just being so incredible. I hadn't an idea what I was doing.

I looked at him, and nodded, taking a deep breath. "I want you around, James."

His hazel-green eyes sharply turned to me, and he seemed to be doing the exact opposite of what I was doing. I was breathing quicker, and I wasn't sure he was breathing at all.

"I don't have a lot of friends, which may be the most heart-shattering thing a girl has to admit..." I trailed off, and the box with the necklace in it caught my attention, still sitting there on the table. "Something must be wrong with me, yeah?" I laughed lightly, more just to try to calm myself then because it was funny. Because it wasn't. "I just, you & Sirius...I know we hated one another at first, and Sirius seems to jump head first into things, and think about them later, and I've not an idea what's going on in my head, besides the fact _I want you around_. I want Sirius around, as well. And when I say around, I mean friends. I want to be friends. But with Sirius it's so hard, because he's so positively charming, and always seems to be looking for a good time, rather then just letting me...talk, or be, or just to sit. And you? God, I want to be your best friend," His brow was furrowed, and I wondered whether he was good at taking compliments or not. Like Sirius was. "I mean, I just admire _who_ you are that much. I don't even know who you are, though. It's the strangest thing in the entire world, and I,-"

He said not a word. He didn't blink. He didn't breath irregularly. He didn't even look as if he was out of his mind. Because I swore he was, because he was doing something James Potter would never do, and...

It was the sweetest thing in the whole damn word.

He pushed me gently back against the couch, and my eyes went wide with all sorts of "oh no's", as I swore he was going to kiss me crazy...

But he didn't. Hadn't the intention of it at all, of course. And I wouldn't want that. Him to kiss me, I mean. That would be awful. Well, not quite awful, just...Wouldn't quite help the road to friendship along.

His head tilted as he carefully held my eyes in place with his absolutely darling ones. A smile flitted over his features, but it was just as quickly gone, as he slowly leaned forward, brushing pieces of my hair away from my forehead. And then he placed his lips on it, my forehead, in the softest, most appreciated kiss.

Still, he said nothing, and I could hardly keep my eyes open with the rush of dizzying everything I was experiencing.

"You know, it's like you...you handle a lot, Lily. And...you don't have to lose your mind over little things like this. Being friends. Because I'm...more than willing, darling."

Lily, darling. Darling, Lily. Lily, darling. Lily Darling. My god, my head swam, and I was swaying towards his shoulder, almost subconciously, and resting my head against it.

He put his arm around me, and said nothing more, and holy fuck...

I was warm. The fire, and the boys shoulder, and the softest, sweetest kiss.

**abc.**


	6. Secrets

**Chapter 6  
**"Secrets"

**abc.**

Secrets are these twisted words of profound confessions, usually spilled on occasions of late nights, or days where you grow weary of everyone around you.

Secrets can shape, destroy, and make a friendship. They can tell a person more about you, or they can completely throw the person off, and they'll know even less of you. Or secrets can intrigue a person, and they'll _want_ to know even more of you, or they can repel a person from wanting to delve any further.

Secrets are the complex webs of which we weave every single day of our lives. I felt as if I was_ living _a secret. You know. Everybody else seemed to know things, know where they were going, or even where they'd _like_ to be going. But...here I was, walking these secretive halls, wanting these secretive boys, playing by these secretive rules...

se·cret (sekrit)

(sekrit) 

_n._  
**Something that remains beyond understanding or explanation; a mystery. **

**--**

Remus Lupin. He was a secret, if there ever was one. James, well, he was my mystery. My own little plot, and plan, and discovery. But the realization of how gorgeous Remus Lupin was hit me hard.

Sitting there at breakfast on a Thursday. November 30th. Last day of that wretched month.

Oh, my _Dad_ did sent me a "sorry i forgot your birthday" letter. It was, I hated to admit it, quite nice. I got it 2 days after my birthday. Sent me some money, as well. My Mum...Well. Nothing. My Dad also sent on my grandparents' card & money, so...Well. I was happy about that. Not so with my Mum, but my Dad was always...Daddy.

I was watching the Marauders from the corner of my eye as I spread jam on my toast. Sirius was begging for Remus to let him copy his Potions homework, and James was leaning back in his chair, looking right amused. And Peter just...I dunno. Trying to look amused, as well.

Remus's hair was sandy-blonde. It wasn't quite as shaggy as Sirius or James's, and not quite as all over the place as James's, but it fell into his eyes at times, and it went all different directions near the back of his head. His hair was straight, and looked lusciously silky, and he'd run his hand back through it, to keep it from his eyes. Let me tell you, I certainly wouldn't mind doing the favour for him.

I had seen him up close, talked friendly with him, but I don't think I've ever gotten the chance to look him _right_ in the eye. They were blue. A stormy blue, you know? Not light, light blue. They were a pretty blue, though. Darker blue.

Sirius had facial hair much of the time. He was never completely clean-shaven. And James even had the occasional stubble beneath his lip. Remus's hair being as light as it was, you could hardly see whether he had any facial hair. So he looked so clean cut. Suave. God, that was the word for him. I wouldn't go as too far as to describe him as delicate, or something. Just suave. He was so handsome-pretty that you just didn't want to touch him, or even for him to move.

Professor McGonagall -- looking stern -- had pulled Sirius & James away for "a word". And Remus smirked as Sirius shoved Remus's homework back towards him, muttering under his breath.

I grinned, and gathered my composure, watching Peter scurry off after the Professor & Marauders, declaring "i helped, i helped".

Remus looked quite satisfied as he shoved his homework into his school bag, and took a drink of his juice. I cleared my throat as I sat down across the table from Lupin.

"Hey...there." He almost spluttered on his juice, but quickly caught himself, and smiled at me.

"Hello Head Girl. Wondering where your Head Boy's off to? Ah, it's such a great story..."

He folded his arms over his chest, and continued right on smiling.

"No, I just wanted to...talk to you, actually." Remus's skin had the slightest bronze to it. Like he spent his fair share of time outdoors, but his skin wasn't absolutely damaged by it. It gave him a sort of divine glow.

But I noticed quickly, that his cheeks held the slightest tinge of red.

"Talk to me, mmm? You've already got two under your spell." It was my cheeks' turn to tinge red.

"Oh God," I put a hand to my forehead, and was point blank -- Embarrassed. "I don't know what to sa-ay now."

Remus laughed lightly. That's how it was. Lightly. Just absolutely free of any tainted thoughts. "Just kidding, Head Girl. Neither of them has gone very in depth concerning you. Must mean something, of course."

Hadn't gone very in depth concerning me. I wasn't sure how that made me feel. Rather squirm-ish. I thought that if I was coming to mean anything to the pair of them, at least Remus would know.

"Well. Let's not talk about them. How are you on this absolutely _frigid_ day?" I leaned my elbows on the table, and propped my hands up under my chin, watching him almost admirably.

"Urgh," He shuddered as if the cold was his worst fear. So little did I know, though. The cold. His worst fear. Laughable, really, after I found out everything I would. "I hate the cold. November just seems to be one of the coldest months, you know? December, you've become accustom to it. But November just isn't right. And it's been so bloody windy." I nodded, and sighed, my eyes going to the ceiling of the Great Hall -- which of course reflected the sky outdoors. It appeared grey. Cloudless, without sun, just...grey. Absolutely depressing.

"And how are you." He threw in, with a cheeky grin that was contagious.

"Oh. Better than I have been. Mmm," Both of our gazes went to the doors of the Great Hall, as the 3 stolen Marauders were returning.

"Mmm," Remus nodded. "You can tell," He looked back to me. "That you're happier. And if James & Sirius have anything to do with that, I'll personally make sure they never do anything to take that smile from your face."

Oh. Aw. Remus was so...sweet. Bittersweet in some ways, I came to find.

"You're sweet, Remus Lupin." He leaned across the table, and folded both of his hands very near mine. I smiled, and looked to them, touching the knuckles of my clasped hands to his for a split second.

"We should get together sometime. Tonight, or something. Just talk. I want in on this cra-zay Lily Evans action." I giggled, and shook my head slowly...

Wait, no. I _giggled._ That seemed to be a bit of a shock to James & Sirius, as well, because they stopped short as they approached where we were sat.

Oh god. Giggled. What? I just...What? Dammit! Boys. See! It's _THEIR _fault. The Marauders'. They're so damn appealing. Every one of them! Except for Peter, but who cares.

Sirius smirked, and folded his arms as he sat down beside me, leaning fully on the table, and burying his head in his arms. "Detention for a bloody week." He muttered, and Remus laughed.

"_Good_." He said pointedly, raising his eyebrows sharply.

James had sat down next to Remus, and folded his arms as well, looking rather sulky. Or as if he were brooding.

I tried to get his attention, but he wouldn't have it. I bit my lip, and slid down in the bench in order to have my foot nudge against his leg. I got his attention, and he nodded his head at me.

I smiled slightly, but he just shook his head. "What's wrong?" I mouthed, as Remus, Sirius, and Peter argued over something, ignoring us.

He shook his head.

I slid my foot up his leg, and his jaw clenched. I grinned, and he shook his head, though a bit of a grin was tugging at his lips.

I slid my foot up to his knee, and then rested it in his lap, doing the same with the other.

Though I was sat directly across from Remus, and Sirius was sat directly across from James. So in order to get my legs to reach to James, I had to slide down the bench some, towards Sirius, and was leaning a bit into him.

"Uh, Lily..." He pushed my shoulder gently, and I blinked myself from my footsies-with-James rendezvous. Oh god, I realized just how great this would be looking to Sirius as of late. My feet in James's lap. Me grinning widly, James swatting at my feet...Dammit.

I blushed a bit. "Sorry. Hi."

Nobody said anything. Remus looked to Sirius. Sirius looked to James. James looked to Remus. Remus looked to me. I looked to James. James looked to Sirius. Sirius looked to me. James looked to me. They were all looking at me.

I grinned, my cheeks flaming, and the toothy grin was false as hell. But I nodded, and said a quick "ta" before standing from the bench, and walking quickly from the Hall with my head held high...Hoping I wasn't wearing the short skirt today...And wishing boys wouldn't watch girls from behind. Bloody hell.

I was leaning against the wall as classes were to begin, and people walked through the halls.

Have you ever just watched people? Observed people? Wondered what the look on their faces meant? What they were thinking?...

None of the Marauders had gone to class together. Sirius walked by first, heading towards the dungeons for Potions, and then followed Peter. Remus was looking pensive as he walked by, taking big strides. Then came James.

He was the only one of them who looked at me.

It seemed as if in slow motion. Slowly turning his head towards me, rumpling his hair slowly, walking slowly...And he stopped. Stopped walking, people bumping into him, sending him odd glances as he just stood there...

My mouth opened slightly as I tried to think of something to say. Anything. Something. Lily darling...Dammit, think...

He was pressing his lips together, as he walked over to me, leaning against the wall with me.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" He muttered quietly, trying to downcast his eyes, and not look at people...looking at him.

I swore I looked _afraid_ as I turned to him, with wide eyes. Saying nothing, I just...looked at the smile on his face.

I swallowed hard, and shrugged a bit. "I'm thinking that you've suddenly got more friends than you bargained for." He spoke softly, and as usual I could hardly catch his words...But that was the thing, I always did. Always heard him, anyway.

My mouth was open again, and I _tried_ to speak, but there was nothing I could say to argue, or agree, or...Because I didn't know. I didn't know what I was doing, thinking, or feeling, and it was pleasantly scary. Pleasantly. I...that was so wrong of me to think. But it was. I was excited over this. Them. The boys.

His smile was dazzling, even if he wasn't showing his teeth, and beneath his thin-framed glasses his eyes seemed to burn with...

Me stood there, mezmerized by _him_, and...he walked away. I hadn't even the time to think of something to say, because my mind was so absolutely stuck on how good-looking he was, and how...

How he scared the Hell out of me. He walked away, looking back over his shoulder and smiling one last time, me pushing myself off the wall, and standing in the middle -- of the hall -- watching him. Watching him...James Potter...Pushing himself even further into my life. When I had been the one who meant to push into _their_ lives. They weren't, _he wasn't_, supposed to...to affect me like that.

Just standing there, mmm...in the middle for today.

I guess...there comes a time when all of the little people are gone from your range of view. You become temporarily blinded, and can only see those who are impacting your life in ways you had never known of before.

Acquaintances become irrelevant, petty problems are nothing of your concern anymore, and you realize there are very few people who actually, really, completely _matter to you_. It's a turning point. It's a slap in the face, a glass of cold water, it's everything you thought to prepare yourself for, but never did. You should've known there'd come a time when people who you loved would change, and you'd change, and you'd love different people.

I should've known it would've changed.

God. I flaked out in my classes that day. Just sat there, staring at the Professor, wondering why the Hell they chose to waste their lives teaching a bunch of kids who most likely didn't appreciate a word they said. I can't say I did.

Hogwarts was perfect, and amazing, and the most unbelievable place on Earth. Honestly. But it seemed like _every night of my life_ had been spent sitting there in that Common Room. It was so routine. Why? Why was I suddenly so bloody uncomfortable in the only place I've really known for going on 7 years?

Because I realized that all of the little people meant nothing to me, and I was realizing who was impacting my life in such ways, and...It's was the strangest feeling.

James Potter, Sirius Black, and even Remus Lupin. They were a package. You don't get one without the others. And as I looked around the Common Room they were the only people standing out to me. The only ones my eyes didn't travel over. I watched them. I just...They were becoming to mean too much to me, and I didn't even _sit _with them in the evening, or talk to them. What was this, even? I had more friends than I had bargained for? Was James crazy. Honestly, friends are people you spend time with, and these boys were acting like it was some secret...

Secrets.

I found myself closing Gone with the Wind -- of which I still hadn't completed, hem -- and walking over to where they were sitting. On the sofas, and armchairs, near a corner of the common room.

"Hey." I smiled, and made myself comfortable on the couch next to James.

Remus & Sirius were sitting back in over-stuffed armchairs, Peter was sitting at a table near the middle of the room, completing his homework.

The sofas by the fireplace were long, and big, and comfortable. That's where I usually sat. But these sofas were shorter, and the back pillows were stiff, and yeah, I was sitting a bit close to James.

"Hello." They mumbled, each of them at different times.

Sirius yawned, and stretched, his eyes fixed on me. When I met his eyes, he just...smiled.

"Bored out of your mind, Lily Evans. I sure as Hell am." Remus rolled his eyes at this, and then grinned cheekily while throwing a pillow at Sirius.

At this point, Peter had come along, and Remus was right behind Sirius for some good ol' torture-the-ugly-friend. James stayed sitting with me, though, and I had turned my body in order to face him completely, crossing my legs, and putting my palms flat on my thighs.

"What was wrong earlier?" I asked quietly, staring at the back of the couch, rather then at him.

"Mmm. Nothing, really."

I rose my eyes to look at him, and tilted my head. "Jaames. You just looked really...unhappy."

He smiled, for some strange reason, and adjusted the way he was sitting, so he was facing me more, as well.

"You concerned, Evans?"

I smiled, catching on to whatever game he wanted to play this evening, and nodded. "A bit."

"I'm flattered." I poked him in the chest -- which any girl would probably enjoy as much as I did.

"You should be."

By this time, James was sitting the same way I was. Cross-legged, and sideways on the couch, and gazing at me with a smile on his face.

"Honestly, though, the thing you said about having more friends than I bargained for..." I sighed, and James watched me with a serious expression on his face. "I know what you mean. Suddenly I'm overwhelmed with people I hardly know -- want to desperately know, but...This is insane. _I'm_ insane."

"Bloody insane," James agreed with a quiet laugh. "But you know that I,-"

For some reason I was focusing intently on what he was about to say, but suddenly Peter jumped onto the couch, and James & I jumped away as Remus attempted to remove the curses Sirius had placed on him.

I sighed, and then it was Friday.

No, seriously, though. The next day we had relatively easy classes, and the day just whipped by. I was sitting at dinner thinking it was lunch time. Lemme tell you, that was a pleasant discovery. The fact the day was over, and it was the weekend. It was cold, though. I finished my meal, and gazed up at the ceiling. It was a bit of daily thing. Check the weather by gazing up at the ceiling, heh. The magic of this place will never truly fade.

It was dark. Or getting there. The sun was setting, and it was just after 6 o'clock. The sky had been undisturbed all day. Just bland, and grey, and with the faintest trace of the sun trying to shine through the cold.

When June came and Summer was upon you, you completely forgot what it was like to be cold, and what snow looked like, even. But the second it drops below 0 celcius, and you get the first storm of the winter...It's just there. In your mind, as vivid as always. The snow, the frost, the way the sky looks when it's so cold nothing moves, just...everything about winter is more intricate than any other season. It lasts so long, I guess. We enjoy Summer. Hardly notice Autumn passing us by. Hate Spring, because it's so rainy. But Winter lasts for months. 6, almost. Here at least. And you'll never, ever forget how much you hate it. Never. But you also can't force away those warm and fuzzies at the hopeful wishing that you encourage all throughout December. Hoping Christmas will be good, hoping a boy with pretty eyes saves you from your boring school days, wish that you could spend more time outside in the snow, as much as you swear you hate it in July...

Wish there was a reason to wear that gorgeous scarf, and newsboy hat you bought... **A/N -- Like Lily was wearing in the 3rd movie, when she was twirling in the picture with James. :wink: Upcoming scene, **

Wish there was a reason to go outside just to get your cheeks all flushed, because you know any girl looks good with that the-air-is-crisp crimson blush...

And suddenly there is one. A good reason that is. To look good.

"Come for a walk with me, Lily?" His voice was startling deep, and pleasant. There were times when it was rather gruff, and even an octave too high when he was arguing with the guys. But his voice sounded so damn right, and warm, as it spoke requesting such a dashing thing.

Sirius had changed from his uniform, as had I, and was wearing a long-sleeved, grey, fleece sweater, and a white t-shirt could be seen underneath. His jeans were darker-blue, and he was wearing a brown, leather-jacket, and a pair of gloves was dangling from one of his pockets.

I looked up at him from my place at the table, and must've been rather frowning, because he laughed, and shoved his hands deep in his pockets, touching his heel to his toes, waiting for me to say something.

"Oh. Uh. I just have never seen that jacket before," I gathered my muggle coat and held it in my arms, staring up at him. "And I s'pose a walk...would be nice."

He grinned at me, and put his gloves on as I put my coat on.

"You look nice and toasty today. Warm." I was wearing an olive-green, cashmere, turtleneck and my hair was in a single, french braid, though it was rather loose and pieces hung here and there. A pair of jeans, and my wool coat that wasn't quite knee length, and was chocolate-brown. The inside was cream coloured, as were the huge buttons, and the trim around the top and bottom.

"Why thank you." I _felt_ nice and warm and toasty today. It was Friday for fuck's sake. Everybody should have that warm and toasty feeling, though I wouldn't be upset if I were the only one to. Sometimes it's nice to know you're the only one feeling a particular way.

As soon as the blast of cold air hit us, as he pulled the front door open, we were walking nearer to one another. It was just automatic. If you've someone warm to the left of you, you just walk closer in order to revel in that warmth. And well, with Sirius being to my left, I took advantage of it.

"Do you feel as if you shouldn't speak?" Sirius whispered, as we walked along the dirt path, that was currently frosty, and crunching beneath our feet, due to the thin layer of snow.

"Why?" I whispered back.

He turned his head, and smiled at me, and oh my god...It was a smile that reached his eyes. Those grey-blue eyes, that were so incredibly alight with a swirling torrent of hidden emotion. Secret emotion. Secrets. They hadn't left. We were still living in them. These past 2 days had been secrets, and nothing more. Unfinished sentences, turned into a dangling secret.

"It's so calm," We were approaching the banks of the lake, and stopped short, not wanting to get too close to the water, that wasn't quite frozen over. "Absolutely serene. Nothing's moving, I swear it," I swore it, too. Nothing moving but the frosty-white breath that issued from his mouth as he spoke, and became his words floating off. "December's beautiful."

By now the moon had risen and the sun was gone, and it felt as if it could be 10 o'clock at night, and not just passed 6:30. The bright, white, light the moon gave off hit the snow just right, and it sparkled, and shone, and it was certainly fitting for Hogwarts. For it was the most magical scene anybody could ever observe. The quiet before the storm. The few moments when day meets night, and they merge as a wonderful, silent, beauty. And then night takes it's place

I swallowed, somehow pulling my eyes from his gorgeous face -- honestly, gorgeous, just every little movement... -- and looked to his hand that was at his side, and not shoved in his pocket...

I took it. I mean, held it. Put it in my own, and enjoyed it so damn much.

"Tell me a secret, Lily Evans," His voice had gone hoarse as he spoke at first, but he caught himself, and cleared his throat.

"Secrets are secrets for a reason," I smirked slightly, and adjusted my hand in his, intertwining our fingers better.

"Yes, they exsist only to be told. So tell me one. I'll tell you one first," He looked out over the still lake. "I think you're the prettiest _witch_ in this whole school."

I laughed, and dammit, I couldn't help how happy I sounded. Sure, he called me a witch, but it was part of the charm. "Hardly a secret, Sirius. I mean, I'm not trying to say I think everyone should know I'm the prettiest. I mean, that's not much of a secret. Completely untrue, and," I shrugged. "I'm sure you could come up with something better."

He tipped his head back, and laughed his smooth, yet almost bark of a laugh. "I've already told you all of the good ones! The map, the cloak, and of course the deep, dark secrets will come out later on. It's your turn."

"Mmm. Ohkay. I'm eighteen," He rolled his eyes, interrupting me. "No, lemme finish. I'm eighteen, and..." I felt my cheeks burn, and knew I couldn't say it in an even voice while looking at him, so I looked away. "Never been kissed."

He made a sort of a sound in his throat. As if he was trying to clear it, but half-gasped as he did so. I smiled, and shook my head, turning it away from him. God. Never been kissed...

"I don't believe it," There was no trace of laughter, or anything, in his voice. It was soft, and rugged, and sincere. "Honestly. Anybody who had the chance to kiss you, and didn't, is a fool." James Potter popped briefly into my mind...But however, I gave him a small smile of appreciation.

"Thank you." I gave his hand a squeeze, and went to let go, and turn back towards the castle. Mmm, yes, I think that was enough for tonight.

He didn't let go, though. Held me back, and looked as if he was petrified and torn over what he was about to do. I soon understood why.

He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing, and murmured something that I could not hear. Whether because he said it too quietly, or I just didn't want to hear anything he said, as his face moved closer...

I didn't register what he was about to do, until I had hardly any reaction time. My eyes didn't go wide, but instead my lips parted, and I took a deep breath...

He tilted his head, brushing his nose against mine while he looked in my eyes one last time before closing his own.

He...simple as anything...Sirius Black kissed me.

It was as if everything that was warm in the world had gone, and left us in -15 celcius degree weather. And all that warmth that had left had gone to one place -- Sirius's lips. My God, holy Jesus, I honestly mean it, though.

Almost as if they were burning with anticipation, and determination, and passion. Everything about the kiss was passionate, even though nothing actually was. Just how he approached it, and how he did it, and how...how it felt.

His lips just rested on my own, gently, for a moment, before he brought his gloved fingertips to my already burning cheek, and grazed the backs of them along it.

As he did this, I shifted my weight, leaning up slightly, and pressing our lips more firmly together. Soft little pecks, gently taking my lips in his own, and warming them, nipping at them...

Oh my God, I had almost lost my breath before the damn kiss began, and by the time his mouth was off of mine, I had to take a gasp of breath.

He had left his hand on my cheek, and when he went to pull his lips back, I kissed them twice, gently, and felt my mouth was set in a bit of a voluptuous pout, and he was intently watching me press my lips together, and he licked his own slightly.

And I shivered when _those eyes_ met my own with some sort of tension still left in the space between us. I can't say it was _bad_ tension, it was just...intense.

"Cold?" Sirius murmured, untangling his hand from mine, -- which had stayed clasped as we kissed -- and putting both of them on my arms, slowly rubbing them up and down.

"I don't know." He frowned at this, but continued rubbing my arms as it was.

All I could do was helplessly watch him. What...what had just happened, I mean...I wasn't surprised. There was no reason to be. He had dropped so many damn hints that I was expecting something along those lines to happen sooner or later. But it was still incredibly mind-fucking. Because he was Sirius Black, and some girls only dreamt of kissing him. And probably enjoyed their dreams more than I found myself enjoying the actual thing.

That butterfly in the pit of your stomach feeling? Eh. Not so good. Why do people think having a bunch of creatures soaring in your stomach would feel pleasant? It doesn't. Maybe there are some good butterfly-in-the-stomach feelings, but this one was oddly...unpleasant. I was so excited that my head felt as if it weight a hundred pounds, and my stomach was flipping so much I thought I was to be sick. How do you enjoy a feeling like that?

I felt selfish, and guilty, and sad, and happy, and I had no idea anymore.

"You wanna go inside now?" Nothing had been said for ages. We just stood there, absolutely freezing, in silence.

"I actually think I'll stay out a bit longer. You can go in, if you'd like." He seemed hesitant about leaving me out there, and I don't think he would've, if I hadn't sounded so pathetic, and looked so shaken.

"Ohkay Lily. And this can be...our secret now, if...if you'd like. You know." And he smiled, and I smiled back, and I wrapped my arms around myself, and held my breath as long as possible, trying not to disturb the state things were in. A quiet, peaceful, relaxing one.

I thought, though. Just thought a lot about the past couple of months. Things had changed so drastically, and I was a person who...Had the same thing her whole life. The same not-really friends, the same crappy parents, the same bitchy persona, and I dunno. These boys were everything to me now. Because they were all I had at the moment. Was that bad? Or wrong? Somehow I didn't think so, but Sirius had confused me royally.

It's like I wasn't being considerate, or any fair, really. Sirius, and James's friendship had been so right. Had been the almost perfect friendship, that anybody would be lucky to have. And I had came prancing in, just taking over, and pushing things out of the way in order to earn a spot in their lives. And it seemed I had earned a rather front-row spot, but liking Sirius? And wanting James so desperately bad to be my best friends? And thinking Remus was gorgeous?

The kiss being our secret...I think it seemed almost best. I was afraid James might think I was sabotaging the beginning of our friendship just for...some kiss. But it wasn't just some kiss. Or maybe I didn't know what I wanted, and thought that in the weeks to come what I wanted would change from what I wanted now, and maybe that want for James Potter's friendship would be something...something else.

I was cold. I was alone. But I had been kissed by Sirius Black, and it seemed only right that I take a moment out of my worrying to...to properly enjoy that. Because Hell, it was certainly something to properly enjoy.

I just so badly didn't want to mess this up, and it would help if I knew what either boy was thinking. If I knew what I was thinking. If I knew if Sirius had enjoyed the kiss, had intended for it to happen, or if he was just making a joke out of my never-been-kissed confession...

Pretty-eyed boys, with good hair, and nice clothes made me so insecure.

**abc.**


	7. Something Different

**Chapter 7  
**"Something Different"

**James.**

**

* * *

**

Her eyes are green. Brightest damn green I've ever seen. Only person I know, actually, who has green eyes. And don't ask me to describe them any further. I just, _don't know_. Jade-green, maybe?

I know how to describe them for me. They're lovely, and bright, and that probably doesn't mean a lot to anyone who hasn't had the chance to gaze into them.

Her hair's firey red. It's wavy, and fell just past her shoulders. Her part was never completely centered, strands usually crossing this way and that, and the way she'd run her hand back through it, just giving her this casual look of elegance.

Her milky skin contrasted quaintly with her crimson waves of hair, and her bright green eyes -- so wild, and full of dreams -- contrasted with everything else. Her lips were pouty, and were a dusty-pink colour. Just soft, and delicate. And her smile was innocent, and tugged at your heartstrings -- But her eyes, was like looking at a completely different person. It was the oddest feeling in the world, just being around her.

I'm not sure what I was doing up, just sitting in the common room at 6 AM on a Saturday. I liked my sleep. Needed my sleep. Went through some crazy withdrawal if I didn't get enough sleep. Which usually involved me, 6 cups of coffee, and forgetting loads of things. So my weekends were what I lived for. And I was awake...

In December the sun didn't completely rise until 8, and things were still shadowy then. So, yeah, it was rather dark. Though, there was some light creeping in from the edges, softening up the dark, and bringing navy into the sky.

I sprawled out on the couch, after having added wood to the fireplace, and charmed it again. It needed re-charmed every morning, to stay going throughout the day.

I was letting her in too fast. She was just so sweet, and persuasive. I hardly knew her, she...she didn't know that much about me. Enough, I suppose. But when a girl says all she wants is some friends, Hell, you can't really help but warm up to her.

She was Lily...Lily Evans, and that's about all I needed to know right now.

That, and, when she woke up that morning she was wearing the sweatshirt she had taken from me a few nights ago. That struck me as important.

**Lily.**

**

* * *

**

Warm. And shaky.

I was warm and shaky when I woke up to a dark morning. It must've been morning, early at that, because I assumed I hadn't slept until that evening, or something.

Normally I would just roll over and go back to sleep, but there was something oddly inviting about this incompleted morning, and how bloody warm I was, and how my whole body would wrack with a shudder, as if my nerves were on some sort of high.

I rubbed my eyes, and quickly pulled a pair of socks on, because when my feet are cold, it's as if all of me is cold, and I wanted to enjoy this.

I didn't look to the clock as I walked from the dorm, because maybe if I had I would _not_ have been idiot enough to get up. Or maybe I would've considered what I was wearing.

You feel so completely different in the morning, then in the afternoon. When you wake up early in the morning you just _know_ it's early. For me, at least, I quiver, and yawn a lot, and there's just this overwhelming sense of security, and serenity.

I'm sure it was my loud breathing that alerted him of my presence. Otherwise, I had been quiet. But the almost stifling warmth of the Common Room made me take a deep breath, and hold it, and then try to catch it again. It felt so nice. Almost like Christmas morning. _Almost_. For usually I was at home, dreading getting out of bed to the cold, wood floors. I get so excited for Christmas, though. Or just the days leading up to Christmas, because they're the ones I spend at Hogwarts. Christmas at home is never anything to get excited over.

My parents have been divorced since I was 8. I hardly recall a Christmas when we were all together, and happy. I do remember picking out a tree with my Dad, and how I walked onto a frozen puddle of water, and the ice cracked, and I was up to my knees in cold, muddy water. It was so awful. I never liked cutting our own trees down after that. But at least my Dad tried to make a deal out of Christmas. _He_ used to do the decorating. And _he_ used to buy most of the presents. And _he_ used to try to calm Petunia & I on Christmas Eve, making sure we knew that Santa wouldn't come if we were awake, and all of that.

And sometimes, I guess, it's good. Remembering those brief childhood memories, and getting that surge of excitement again.

December was my favourite month, especially here. It was the perfect Christmas scene, even only 2 days in to the month.

I wrapped my arms around myself, and my back had actually began aching from the shudders I was trying to suppress. It was like my breathing echoed in the large room, that was overloaded with armchairs, and sofas, and chairs, and tables, and other furniture. It was so cozy.

The sky was a dark navy, and was slowly getting lighter, and the fire was blazing furiously. So the room danced with strange colours.

And James was there, laying on the couch. One of his arms folded behind his head, and the other crossed over his stomach.

I tilted my head, and gazed at him through rather bleary eyes. James Potter, I swear it, slept like 22 hours on a Saturday. And here he was...He must've been sleeping, though...

"What is it about a Saturday morning that's so attractive?" He wasn't sleeping, apparently. Though his voice was thick, and he spoke slowly.

"Good question," I mumbled through a yawn. "What time is it?"

James flopped his arm down near his face, and he peered at his watch for a few moments before deciding to read it. "6:06."

"Jesus Christ almighty," I rubbed at my cheeks, trying to wake up, and then ran my hand back through my hair, combing my fingers through it. "That's insane. I've not been up this early for ages..."

Our classes started by 9 o'clock, so getting up at 7:30 or 8 worked all right for me.

"So that brings me back to my original question. Why up so early this morning?" He sat up, and beckoned me to come sit next to him.

Slowly, I did so, feeling his eyes so completely focused on me as I walked from behind the couch, where I had been standing, to sit next to him on the couch.

"That's my shirt." He murmured under his breath, and he wasn't blinking as he looked at me.

"I don't...I don't know why I'm up early. I just woke up, and was warm," I clasped my hands together. "And I like being warm when I wake up. Thus here I am. And," I looked at him, smiling. "Yeah, it is. Your sweater I mean."

I drew my eyes down to look at the grey sweatshirt, and fiddled with the hem along the bottom.

"Keep it. I've got more clothes than a boy should have as it is."

I laughed hoarsely. "Keep it? No, no...Well," I shrugged. "Actually, I think I planned on it."

"Good. You know...Most girls think that guys don't like them wearing their clothes. Their sweaters. Girls seem to think that guys find them unattractive in baggy sweaters, that fall to their knees," His sweater fell just about to my knees. "And they think we're hesitant about letting them wear them. But honestly, Lily, spread the word -- it's an ego boost to us guys. There's nothing better than having your friends ask -- _isn't that your shirt? --_ when a beau..." He paused, and regained whatever it had been that he lost for that moment. "pretty girl is wearing it."

"Well then. I...ohkay." I half-laughed, having no idea where that had come from, but it wasn't bad having him just...talk.

Beautiful, though. I swore it was going to come out of his mouth. He was going to say it. _I_ was wearing his shirt, and I had caused an ego boost, and he thought I was...I was beautiful.

I wasn't conceited, I just wasn't. I didn't spend loads of time worrying about how I looked, and I certainly didn't think I was beautiful. My Mum had told me early on that girls with red hair weren't pretty or beautiful, they were just average. And to never get my hopes up over boys thinking I was something special.

And to this day I like to think that her saying that _didn't_ crush me, and kill me, and diminish a part of me, and turn me into some needy, but cautious, jumpy, bitch. I still like to think it didn't. Like to think it didn't. Like to think she didn't. Like to think that...that she cared, or something.

Petunia was a brunette. Mum had light-brown hair. My Dad's hair was almost blonde...And I had red hair. My Dad's grandmum had red hair. And I got it, I guess. The red hair. Some kids, maybe, wouldn't second guess their bloody natural hair colour...but I wasn't pretty, I was just average. Dammit.

"Lily?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking." He was rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses, yet kept his gaze on me.

"Mmm. So, we're friends, Lil?"

It was suddenly apparent to me...That James was a Marauder. It just occured to me, as I gazed up at him with slightly narrowed eyes, and small smile, as I thought.

Sirius was charming, smooth, a bit obnoxious, handsome, and arrogant. Remus held the same qualities. Charming, and suave. And handsome, and smooth, and I'm sure he could even hold an air of arrogance at times.

I guess it made sense, that they were alike. Remus may have been a bit quieter, yet a bit more vocal with his insight. And Sirius may have been a bit more boisterous, but he could be just as insightful, I'm sure of it.

And until this morning I never...I guess I never realized how _James_ was like them two. It just never stood out at me before. It never was there, in my face, the fact that he was a Marauder, and they were all best friends, and it was just the way he was looking at me, just then.

His face was stubbly, as he was unshaven. And his eyes seemed so smoldering, and dark. They seemed rather lidded, like he was having a time keeping them open, and there were circles beneath them. It just made him look like the other two. Dark circles, because they didn't sleep near as much as James did.

He wore a pair of loose, navy, sweat pants, and a white, _fitted_, t-shirt.

His voice was hoarse, kind of scratchy on certain things he'd say. And he was saying things, for christ's sake. It was a lot to ask to have a conversation with James.

And his adam's apple seemed to just draw attention to itself, the way it bobbed when he swallowed, or smiled...

He was suddenly, and completely very..._male_. Not a man. Because he was a boy, Sirius was a boy, Remus was a boy, every guy is a _boy_ until the day they die, because that's the day they've earned the right to be called a man. Until then they're just boys. Naive, stubborn, pretty, sweet, boys.

But he was the definition of male right now. Incredibly masculine. Even the way the shadows danced in the corners of his features...

I swallowed, and blinked a few times, my gaze unfocused. "James," I smiled. "Yes, we're friends."

"It's insane. I hardly know you, but just ca,-"

"That's not bloody necessary," I interrupted shortly.

He smiled at me gently. "I just meant...Ohkay. Never mind it. But yeah, friends."

There was some admitted defeat in his voice, and yeah, I felt it, too. Understood why he would be admitting defeat by saying those words.

It just...this morning it felt like we were in some dramatic, romance novel. James Potter & I sitting there, realizing we were friends, and I wanted him to be my best friend, and _Sirius had kissed me_, and James was wearing a bloody _WHITE_, _FITTED_ t-shirt, and we both liked to sleep, but were up early, and it was just like we were surrendering to friends. We _could've_ been long, lost lovers, had things been different, and different people exchanged kisses, and had Sirius Black not been so damn appealing. Soul mates. Lovers. Just anything that would have connected us at the soul, we _could have_ been, but weren't going to be. Friends. We were...friends.

And as disappointed as most may be over it, I wanted it so, so much. Friends.

Lovers, and soul mates are connected at the soul, but little did I know at the time -- so are best friends. Especially ones with a friendship that goes to Hell, and back again.

"Thank you, James. _For_ being my friend. You've no reason at all to let me in." He stood, for some reason, and had a clenched jaw as he looked down at me.

I thought he was angry for a moment, but then...heh.

One of his index fingers jumped to his right cheek, and he rubbed it just beneath his glasses. After doing that, he rubbed the back of his neck, and then rumpled his hair.

"You're welcome. That's ridculous, actually. You don't...have to thank me...I should thank...Well, just...Jesus Christ, just,-" He waved the unfinished, modest, statement aside, and started new. "You know that welcome winter, bonfire thing tonight?" He raised a single eyebrow -- he could only do that at certain times, I cam to find -- and looked at me questioningly.

"Oh! Right! I forgot we could go to that this year. Yeah, what about it?" It was this tradition, I guess, for the 7th years. There was always this big bonfire -- that was warm, warm, warm -- down near Hagrid's (the groundkeeper's) cabin. Earlier in the evening there was ice skating on the lake, and there were warm blankets, and hot cocoa, and friends talking, and boys bonding, and sometimes a couple of Professors would come down to check on things, but it was just a big get-together, that reminded us that yeah, this is it, 7th year. Final year.

"Are you goin' to it?" He seemed so casual, yet he insisted on rubbing his cheek, and kinda jiggling his foot. They -- his nervous habits -- drove you absolutely _MAD_, but hmm...I dunno. Later, I realized, that those bloody habits of his helped him through things. Made him who he was. They were friggin' adorable, honestly.

"Well, now that I've remembered it, I'll probably go," I scrunched my nose and laughed, as I stood up, too. "It sounds cute."

James grinned, and went to shove his hands in his pockets -- which there weren't any of in the sweat pants. I couldn't help but laugh. He shook his head, and chuckled, too. It was another security thing for him. Knowing he could hide his hands in his pockets, hide some of him from people. "I'm going, too, I guess."

"Ah, you and the Marauders going to be wreacking havoc, mmm?"

He looked away from me, and focused on the end of the couch. "Well. There's some thing going on in Hogsmeade, at the three broomsticks. I guess they think they can get their hands on some alcohol, so..." James grinned lopsidedly, and oh he looked so cute, and young. His messed up hair, and devilish grin. I've never seen him grin so good-naturedly.

But wait. The chance to go to Hogsmeade -- for everyone would be distracted, and the Professors wouldn't even notice four missing boys, one who had an invisibility cloak -- hit on Madame Rosmerta -- gah, seriously, Sirius has a thing for flirting with older women, even if she's not _that_ much older -- and _get alcohol?_ Why the hell was he passing this one up?

"So, if you wanna go together, or whatever. 'Cause I won't have anybody to hang out with, and your friends," His cheeks grew a bit red, and he cleared his throat. "And you may not have anybody to hang out with. So if you wanna go together, and hang out together, that'd be...nice."

Oh.

* * *

I don't know if he knew, and I don't know if I even knew what it was that I don't know if he knew -- I just...My head felt light, and swarmed, and the whole room to a lurch, and seemed brighter, and just...He wanted to go with me, it was just the most incredible thing in the world for him to ask me to go. To _want_ to spend time with me. James Potter: Introvert Extraordinaire, asked me to...hang out with him. Hell, I had sit down. 

He reached out, and held a hand onto my shoulder as I sunk back to the couch.

"I'd love to."

And then those smoldering, dark, hazel, green eyes looked to me with a warm, sweet, melting gaze. And he was so very there. At 12 after 6 in the morning.

* * *

"Hey. Hi. Lily." Her name was Bridget Harris. She was the prettiest girl I know, and was in Gryffindor, and in 7th year, too. 

Most girls don't like admitting other girls are that pretty, but with Bridget it was more of a fact. I thought Jada was pretty enough, but it's not like I'd tell her that. She was too mean to be completely pretty.

Bridget's hair was so dark, that it was almost black. It was long, and silky, and shiny. Her hair was that of the models you see on shampoo, or hair-dye commercials. Absolutely perfect looking. Not a split end in sight.

Her bangs were a bit too long and hung in her eyes, so she usually swept them to the side. Her smile was perfect, and she had deep, brown eyes. And she was always so happy. I could've been friends with her, I supposed, had I...tried, maybe.

"Hey Bridget." I smiled at her, as we made our back to Gryffindor Tower. We had just ate supper -- it was 5 o'clock -- early, due to the activities this evening, and she had came bounding up to me in the corridor.

"Are you going to the bonfire tonight?" She asked, and I noticed just how bloody bouncy, and chipper she was. It was rather contagious, as I started walking the same fast pace she was walking at.

"Yeah, I am." I grinned at her, and she let out some sort of giggly squeal.

"Ray's taking me," She shrugged, and flipped her hair behind her ear. "Whatever 'taking me' means. A casual date, I guess."

Ray was a boyish good-looking guy in our year, in Ravenclaw, and I think her and Ray were in an on/off relationship. "A casual date..." I murmured, a certain messy-haired, hazel-eyed boy jumping to mind.

"Yeah. I dunno. Should be fun. You going with anybody?"

_Well_, it's not like I would be lying, because I _was_ going with somebody.

"Mmm," I grinned. "James Potter."

Her eyes widened, and she smiled rather mischeviously. "You lucky wench. Don't tell Ray I said that."

I laughed -- a girlish laugh, that I found myself doing more often, but absolutely hated it.

"Anyways, since you're Head Girl, I thought maybe you might know if I was allowed to take a camera?" She furrowed her eyebrows.

"Oh. Well. Yeah, I suppose you can take one. Why not, right? Will it work?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I bought it in Hogsmeade. Magical one."

"That's awesome, yeah, bring it. Pictures of frolicking couples. Aw." I scrunched my nose up, and she laughed at me.

"I'll be sure to get some pictures of a certain red & raven-haired, frolicking couple," She grinned at me, spotted a friend of hers ahead of us, and bounded down the hall, waving. "See you later."

"'Bye."

We were practically to Gryffindor Tower, anyways, and the corridor had pretty much cleared out. I was walking slowly, humming to myself, and looking to the portraits hanging all over the walls.

Almost as if from the shadows, emerged Sirius Black. "Aw. Ickle Lily making friends?" He smirked at me, and I shoved him playfully.

"Shut up."

He grinned further. "Now, now. No way for a young lady to talk."

I laughed, and rolled my eyes. "I've decided you could get on my nerves."

Sirius blinked, and then shrugged, trying not to crack a grin. "Well, I s'pose that's that, then. We're through."

I shrugged, too, and we both stopped walking as we came to the portrait hole. "Too bad," I made a tutting sound. "I never loved you as it is."

He raised his eyebrows, until they almost disappeared under his fringe, and took a step closer to me, clutching a hand to his chest. "That one hurt."

I grinned, and his arms came around my waist, pulling me a bit closer. I looked up into his eyes, and tilted my head as he went serious. "What're you doing tonight?"

"Um. Mmm. Going to the bonfire thing."

"Oh, pish. Typical girl," I laughed, and circled my arms around his neck. "I suppose you wouldn't want to come to Hogsmeade with Remus, Peter, and I for some drinks at the Three Broomsticks?"

I snorted, and he chuckled at, I suppose, how graceful that was. "No thanks."

He seemed to know the answer before he asked, as he ignored me, and leaned down. I smiled as he shut his eyes, and went to shut mine, too. Until a couple of familiar voices could be heard approaching the portrait hole, from down the corridor. My eyes flew wide, and I decided to peck him on the cheek, before saying the password, and clambering inside of the Common Room.

Just as it swung shut I heard Remus greeting Sirius, and...James greeting him a second later...

It took me a good 20 minutes to get over the feel of Sirius Black that close to me. No, that's a lie. I never got over the feel of him.

It just amazed me how bloody_ warm_ he was. So, so warm. His arms around my waist, and his face that close to my own...

The first time he kissed me I hadn't the time to enjoy it properly. It was freezing out, and his lips may have been warm, but he didn't touch me anywhere except for my cheek. It was some incredible realization that boys were warm, and their arms knew where to go around you, and girls are supposed to be shorter than boys, because your head is just level with his chest, and he has to bend down to kiss you properly, bringing you even further into his warmth, and...I was making myself light-headed just thinking of it.

With Sirius...I _wanted_ to talk to him, and get to know him better, but there was this undeniable, bloody attraction, and it just made it hard to think around him. Why was he so handsome? Gorgeous, even? His smile was like it was just for me, and me alone, and his eyes were so innocent, and they danced with light, but...it's like he knew things, and he planned things, and he wanted to say things, but why bother when you had eyes like that?

I obsessed, I know, over small, little, unimportant things. Hell, James called me 'Lil' earlier today, whilst asking whether or not we were friends, and my heart just pounded, and God, it sounded so pretty.

Yes, my point -- I obsess over small things. I need detail. And when a boy is warm, and warm near me, and I don't know, I've just never had a boyfriend before. Sirius was the closest thing I had ever had. _James_ was the closest thing I had ever had. They were...my fucking friends, and they were making me think of them being my fucking boyfriends. Plural. Boyfriend**_s._** I couldn't...do that. I couldn't want more with...both of them.

It was 6 o'clock when people were leaving the common room, all bundled up, and looking bright. I was sitting there, in casual clothes, no coat, or gloves, or hat -- I hadn't moved since I sat down, and I didn't feel I could.

"All right," Sirius came to stand in front of the couch I was sitting on, wearing that brown, leather jacket, a pair of gloves, and he was holding a black toque in his hand.

"I will see you later, Lily Evans." I was biting my lip, and smiled the best I could with my teeth still tugging at the dry skin. He frowned at me. "You've gone and made it bleed."

I wiped the small amount of blood off on the back of my hand, and made a face. "I hate how they get dry, and crack in the winter," I murmured, standing up, and then looking to him. "Be good."

He grinned, and put a hand on my cheek, though didn't lean in like I thought he would. "Sorry for...earlier. I felt as if I startled you," I shook my head at this.

"No, I just...James and Remus were coming, and I didn't know if that would be uncomfortable or not." Sirius nodded.

"Yeah, no, I understand. It's ohkay," He kissed his fingertips, and then brushed them along my cheek. Dammit, I wish he would hold me closer again... "You be good, too. 'Ta."

Then he went and joined Remus & Peter in discussing their plans near the portrait hole.

My gaze had hardly pulled away from Sirius when James got up from the table he was sitting at, and came over to the couch. "You wanna go now?" I noted he looked less than ready, as well. Most people that were going had already left.

"Yeah. Sure...I'll go...get changed. Super quickly. I promise." I flashed him a smile, and dashed up the girls staircase -- just catching the two boys glance at each other, and offer tight-lipped smiles, with no eye contact.

Why was this so awful, but so pleasantly enjoyable?

When I came back down to the Common Room, James was just pulling his gloves on, and was wearing his winter coat.

I had put on a pair of dark-rinse jeans, a dark emerald-green turtleneck, and my winter coat. I grabbed my adorable newsboy hat, a pair of gloves, and ran my hands pack through my hair. Quickly putting some lip gloss on.

I loved turtlenecks. Just the...obvious warmth, and coziness they represented. I didn't like ones that nearly choked you, so I was wearing one that had a rather droopy neck.

The common room had few people in it, but him and I were the only 7th years left hanging around.

"Here I am." He looked up from adjusting his gloves, and something...something flickered behind his eyes, and then ignited.

"You look absolutely lovely," He took the hat from my hands, and then put it on my head, still gripping it with both hands, and grinning at me, his eyes sharing with mine.

It was the most surprising thing yet that day. He grinned with his pearly-whites showing, and I had never seen him look more...grown-up, and strong, and aware, but playful, and it was nice.

I couldn't help but grin. "What's gotten into you, mmm?"

"I like your hat." James tugged on it one last time, swung his scarf around his neck, and then strode off towards the portrait hole.

"C'mon."

* * *

It was a crisp, clear, night. Around 6:30, and so it wasn't _completely_ dark, but was getting there. It was at that point where there was enough light left to see who was next to you, but it was straining on your eyes. The navy, black, light, thing to the sky. Some people have night blindness, though. I think I'm one of them. 

The stars shone so bloody bright tonight, and I walked on the right as we went down the stairs, out into the night.

The path down to the bonfire was lit with torches, and the flames seemed to be the only thing about the night that was moving. The air was so very still, and I found this was something of routine at Hogwarts. For the first few days of December, apparently, every aspect of nature seemed to hold it's breath, and let it ease in.

Everybody seemed to abandon the idea of skating after dark, and I seen the large group of people down by the bonfire.

It was huge, but wasn't roaring, or anything. It crackled nicely, as if it was small fire in a hearth. I loved watching people by firelight, though, and this was just right.

James & I stopped walking near the end of the path, and I looked around the little gathering that was going on. There were three, huge, logs laying in different directions, near the fire, so you could sit on them. A table near Hargid's hut was loaded with mugs -- They were empty, but once you picked them up they would magically fill with whatever you wanted, and keep refilling when you were nearing the bottom.

A pile of blankets was lay at the end of one of the logs, and I seen Professor McGonagall tapping her wand to them, and then turning 'round to head back up the path.

She, of course, ran into us, as we were just standing there.

"Oh. Miss Evans, Mr Potter, good to see you here. The blankets are charmed, and are warm. Wouldn't want anybody getting frostbite. I'm sure you two only need one blanket, though." Her thin lips were set in I guess what she thought was a smile.

I frowned. "One? What do you...Oh." My cheeks burned, and I looked away from the Professor, as James kicked at the snow.

"It's not like that Professor." He said quietly.

She bade us good evening, and was on her way.

I continued walking over to the logs, and crossed my arms, staring at the fire, and feeling it's warmth suddenly engulf me.

"Wow. That's incredible." James muttered, coming to stand next to me, and holding the palms of his hands out near the fire, as if to confirm the heat.

"It is." I breathed deeply, and let my eyes follow the flames upwards, until I saw just the smoke floating towards the sky. "I love the smell of bonfires. Burning wood."

"Oh, me too. Well..." He shrugged, and smiled at me when our eyes met. "I've never actually been to a bonfire of any sorts, but I like the smell of a match burning, so this is just like a match burning times a lot."

I shook my head, laughing quietly. "Sure thing, James."

He shrugged, and looked around at everybody talking, and laughing, and I saw Bridget snapping pictures of Hagrid's cabin, and bit my lip as she saw me. She waved furiously, and came over to where we were, her feet crunching into the snow.

"Eee. Hi. I'm loving this." She grinned at me.

"It is nice, isn't it. It's peaceful, despite the chatter." Bridget, however, wasn't hearing me. She was looking at James with a wide smile on her face, that lit up her pretty features more than the firelight did.

"How about a picture?" She asked, rather excitedly. James raised his eyebrows, and then looked to me, shrugging.

"I s'pose." He grinned, looked back to Bridget, and we just stood there facing the camera.

She lowered the camera from her face, and frowned, though giggled slightly. "Enthusiastic bunch."

I laughed, and put a hand to my face. I just didn't know what to do. I didn't know how James felt about...I dun know! Anything.

"C'mere." James tugged on my gloved hand, and pulled me close. He took one of my hands in his, and then put one of his arms own around my back, holding me to him.

Bridget grinned, and I laughed as James spun me around, half-dancing, half-spinning me. She snapped the picture, and then with a flourish he twirled me one last time, and let me go.

"_That_ was a good one. I'll see you later, all right?"

"See -- you -- Bridget," I said through gasps of laughter. I took a deep breath, and sat down on the log, looking up at James. "You're different tonight, James Potter."

"You're happy tonight, Lily Evans." Touché.

He grinned at me, and I laughed, shaking my head, as Ray -- Bridget's Ravenclaw boyfriend, who played Qudditch, too -- spotted James, and came over and began talking with him.

I got up, and went over to talk to Bridget, who was stuffing her small camera in her coat pocket.

"Hey." She looked at me, and looked serious, or even pensive for a moment.

"He's a good guy, Lily."

It took me by surprise, the impression James and I were giving off.

"He is, yeah." Both of our gazes turned to where the two boys were stood, and I sighed, not tearing my gaze away, though I knew Bridget had.

He just looked so nice, and it almost made me sad. Or wistful. Or happy. It made me so many things. I know I was so, so close to having him exclusively for me. I know that I felt something for Sirius. I know that James would fight me tooth and nail on letting me in. And I was wistful, because I was so jealous of the people in his life who had _always_ known him, and had always been there for him...I wanted to be there so badly.

It was funny, how boys can act like men, and boys can act like, well, boys. They acted like men tonight.

Ray was talking amiably, gesturing with his hands a lot, and James had one of his hands shoved deep into the pocket of his cordroy pants, and the other wasn't in his pocket. He'd rub above his upper lip, and nod, and then flail his hand out to the side when he was making a point, or interrupting, or elaborating, or whatever.

His messy hair shadowed his face in the slightest, but when he'd shake it from his eyes you could see every detail of his face. He had a slight dimple in his left cheek, and when he laughed it protruded more. He had a nice nose, I decided. You see people on television complaining about their awful noses, and then the doctors fix them, but I don't know anybody with an ugly nose like that.

I loved his shoulders. Loved how he shrugged them, loved how he'd crick his neck, and then square his shoulders. I loved how they were broad, and gave the impression of impending power. Because he _was _strong, and powerful, and sometimes I wished he could hold the whole world -- particularly mine -- in the palm of his hand, because he could make it so right. But yeah, someday we'd see that. His strength.

"Lilllyyy..." I blinked, and looked at Bridget, shaking my head in spite of myself.

"My God, I just...I dunno. That's embarrassing."

"He's your boyfriend, you have every right to stare," She laughed lightly, and rubbed her hands together.

"Oh God, um...You see. No. James & I are just...friends. And I mean that so honestly. We're just...We're just...friends..."

I don't think she said anything. I wasn't sure. She might've. But I was sure she knew to wait until I was looking at her again to say anything to me.

Because I had looked back to James, and he met my gaze. Tilting his head, he gave me a small, yet incredibly handsome, smile, and waved shortly.

I smiled, moved my eyes away for a second, then looked back into his hazel ones, and even though he was stood a good distance away, I could feel how they penetrated me.

I sighed, and slumped down on the nearest log.

"You look at him so differently, though," Bridget sat down next to me, and we huddled close together. This log was closer to the forest, and was in the shadows cast by the tall trees, making it chillier. "Like you admire him with every ounce of you."

"I do." I muttered, though more to myself than to her. I did admire him. Everything about him, and I hated it so, so, so much. For some aspects of James Potter weren't worthy of being admired, but other aspects of him should be written down, and examined carefully, and declared perfect.

The Marauders just...were all something different.

James was a gorgeous, mystery. Sirius was dark, and handsome. Remus was golden, and handsome-pretty.

I hadn't looked away from him for minutes, and I didn't care that he knew I was practically memorizing the way he looked...so enticing, and detailed, and...

I couldn't finish my thoughts, because the next thing I knew he was standing at the end of the log I was sitting on, and tilting his head to look at me. "Let's go get you some hot cocoa. It's what we do. Drink hot cocoa, and sit by fires."

I got up from the log, leaving the shade of the trees, and following after James. We went to the table set up with mugs, and James picked two up, handing me one, and it instantly filled with hot cocoa.

"Mmm," I murmured, in a satisfied sort of way, holding the mug with both of my hands. "Yeah. I love this."

"Me too." James sipped his drink, and held it with one hand, turning to look as someone called his name.

I turned, too, and seen another Gryffindor 7th year coming towards him.

"You're quite popular, Mr Potter." He chuckled for a moment, before greeting the guy -- Dave.

"Heey." Dave said, putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and looking around, before looking back to James.

Asked him how his year was going, how his parents were, blah, blah, blah...

I wasn't too concerned of what Dave whats-his-name was saying, because James had put his arm around my shoulders, letting me lean against his side as he talked, and I drank the cocoa.

He was looking at Dave as he did it, and it happened so elegantly, and quickly that I nearly missed it. I was standing next to him, kind of awkwardly, and he seemed to sense that, or something. He looked quickly to me, nodding at something Dave said, and I bit my lip. His arm just seemed to reach out on it's own accord, and go around my shoulders, giving me a gentle tug nearer to his body, and his undeniable, radiating warmth.

It was him...starting to prove that strength. Him draping an arm around me, holding me gently, yet protectively. I could think of nothing else but him, and it sort of worried me.

By the third time James had looked sideways at me, and smiled, Dave grinned slowly, and seemed to spot someone he had been looking for.

"Catch you later, Potter." He clapped him on the back as he walked by, and James's arm was still very much around me, as he just seemed to lead me over closer to the fire by instinct.

"You look absolutely frozen." James said somewhere quite near my hair, and I leaned my head further into his shoulder, as we sat down, and he grabbed a blanket from the diminishing pile at the end of the log.

He wrapped it mostly around me, up to my neck, first taking the half-empty mug from my hands. It fell over his legs, though, and he seemed perfectly comfortable.

"I'm not. I'm warm, honestly." I could hardly speak, though, because with the mixture of cold, awakening air, and the warmth from the fire, and the warmth from the blanket, and the warmth from him -- I was overwhelmed, and dizzy with good feelings.

James said nothing, and I felt one of his hands brush through my hair, as we sat there.

My face was buried away somewhere between his shoulder, and chest, and he smelled so nice. Not overwhelmingly so, but something like fading cologne, and just everything nice about the outdoors. I stared at the fire, and had I been looking at James I would have seen his eyes were still alight with whatever had ignited in them earlier, and he was scanning through the people, though staying with me.

"You _are _warm." He said to me eventually, his lips I could feel pressed against my hair at the top of my head as he spoke.

"Only because you are." A yawn was threatening, but dammit, I just wanted to sit here.

"Heh." I could feel him smile, and he shifted his arm around me, running his gloved fingers up and down my upper arm.

More people had began to sit down on the logs, and I snuggled closer to James, meeting Bridget's eyes briefly, and exchanging a grin.

"I usually hate any sort of gathering with a passion, but,-" I interrupted him, and finished for him.

"You're different tonight."

"That I am," He sighed, and craned his neck so he could look upwards. "Yeah."

I gazed up at him as he looked back down, and I seen everything about that night reflected in his eyes. He was right. I was happy. And the sky was so bright.

* * *

"When's your birthday, James?" I noticed my voice had gotten rough, or something, and I cleared my throat, picking my mug back up from the ground with one hand, and taking a sip. 

"My birthday?" He raised his eyebrows, and seemed to contemplate it, as if he had forgotten. I didn't expect him to tell me. "December 21st."

There was something about him...just telling me his birthday. I had asked before. I had assumed him to tell me before, around the time that it was my birthday, but he hadn't.

But I asked tonight -- when I was happy, and he was different -- and he told me, and it was different. Tonight was different altogether. James was making me dizzy with good feelings, and Sirius was acting all romanticly-involved with me, and Bridget...Bridget could be my _friend_, maybe...

I fell asleep leaning against his shoulder after ages, and ages of just sitting there and listening to him talk to guys, and sometimes me, and listen to rather tipsy-sounding girls sing songs, and eventually I yawned so loudly he looked me oddly, and asked if he was boring me. I half-laughed, and just shook my head, whispering something of how he made everything so warm it drove me insane with drowsiness...And I shut my eyes, breathing him in, and just being calmed so much that I dozed off.

I briefly remembered waking up, and stumbling up the path to the castle, with him holding on to me tightly, murmuring something I can't quite recall, but it was sweet...

We had gone up to floors, and as we approached a third staircase I moaned something about wanting to sit down and rest. James had enough of seeing how helples I was, I guess, because he sighed, grinned at me, and lifted me into his arms. And I fell back to sleep again.

* * *

12:21. His alarm clock wasn't digital, but the numbers, and the hands glowed in the dark, so I could tell the time from where I was laying. 12:21. The hangings were open, and the clock set on the night table, and it was 12:21, and James's birthday was December 21st. 12/21. 

Then it became apparent to me. James's clock. James's clocks hands glowed in the dark. James's hangings were open...

James's bed.

I blinked roughly, and let my eyes adjust to the dark, seeking out Mr Potter himself.

"James," I said croakily, seeing his head resting on the end bed, and his arms sprawled out on it, as well. "Wake up, James." I nudged him with my foot, and he bolted up, rubbing his eyes, and adjusting his glasses.

I lay back down, pulling the comforter up to my neck, and thoroughly enjoying the fact that James's pillow smelled so fucking good.

I could faintly see him smiling at me, as he crawled towards the top of the bed. He rested his head on the bed again, and I moved my face closer to his, smiling, and holding onto the covers with both of my hands.

"Hi." I whispered, smiling at him, and loving just how close his face was. I could see everything about him, and I wouldn't mind sleeping next to this every night.

"Hi." He whispered back, smiling too, and rubbing his thumb along my cheek. "Sleep well, mmm?"

"Oh," I squeezed my eyes shut, and shook my head the best I could. "Sorry."

"Not at all. I had a good time. Thank you," I smiled as he said this, but it was one of those sad, you-dont-need-to-thank-me ones. Almost a sad, or sincere one. "It was good to see you hanging out with Bridget. I worry about you, Lily Evans."

That struck a chord with me. He worried about me, and I just positively wanted to burst into tears, but all the same, it was sweet.

I yawned, and turned my face away from his, laying on my back, realizing I was rather acting posessive of his bed."Bridget, She's nice. Really pretty. I'm absolutely jealous."

We both heard the knob of the door turning, as if somebody was struggling in the dark to turn it the right way. It would be the other three Marauders. I wasn't really concerned of what they'd think. James was incredible tonight, and the sky and everything had been in his hazel-green eyes, and I hadn't kissed Sirius properly that day, and I realized I hadn't actually looked at James's lips. Oh fuck, I bet they were wonderful, wonderful...

"You have no reason to be jealous. You're beautiful."

And he had said it. The door opened, and...James thought I was beautiful, as Sirius, first, came in...

**abc.**


	8. Miserable Sex

**Chapter 8  
**"Miserable Sex"

* * *

I had told James on November 12th -- my birthday -- of Sirius confusing me horribly. I told him that he held my hand, and I told him that he had put his own on my knee. I realized, as Sirius walked in the Dorm, that James hadn't said much of it. Hadn't questioned whether I liked Sirius, or whether Sirius liked me, and he hadn't asked if the two of us were persuing a relationship, or something. 

And it was like...Sirius wanted to keep whatever we were doing a secret, ever since the kiss. I've been whole-heartedly agreeing with that unspoken bid to keep any romantic-interest between us from James. But, as well, I was keeping James & I from Sirius. Because, well, I didn't know what _we_ were doing either, plus...he was so incredibly mine at times, and I didn't want that ruined.

But none of that was now.

For, right now there was me lay in James's bed, positively sinking into the soft matress, and the warmth of the down-filled comforter. And there was Sirius Black.

"James, you should've been there," As soon as he got the door open he began talking, putting the light out on his wand, and shoving it back into his pocket. "Peter drank too much," He rolled his eyes at Remus, as James quickly stood up from where he had been sitting on the floor. "And we had to take him to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey knew he had been drinking. So she called up Professor McGonagall, and now he has to stay in the hospital wing over night. Throwing up like mad. Urgh. Yeah, that's the punishment McGonagall gave him. Madam Pomfrey can't give him anything to make him feel better. Ah, it's great. He's got detention for two weeks, too." Sirius had tossed his jacket and hat off, talked quickly to James, and then had thrown himself down on his bed, laying on his back with his arms stretched out behind his head.

Remus, however, had stayed standing near the foot of James's bed, not moving an inch as Sirius had spoke. James, too, stood next to his bed, in the same spot he had been sitting in. Since I had been covered from chin to toe, my head was all that was visible. And I noticed it was quite convenient that where James was stood kept my head out of Sirius's view. The hangings were halfway drew, so he couldn't see my form beneath the blankets. And my jacket and things had been left downstairs, in the common room.

Sirius seemed to be staring at Remus through the dark room, humor in his voice as he continued to tell the story of their night, thinking Remus would laugh, and agree to what he was saying.

But Remus Lupin would just nod from time to time, not even looking at Sirius. Because Remus Lupin had noticed me laying there in James's bed. And he was staring intently at me, trying to talk to me without saying a word, widening his eyes, and making subtle gestures to Sirius. It's like both him, and James, thought, or subconciously knew that Sirius may...be upset over me in James's bed.

I didn't understand why, because I didn't think either of them knew...of the kiss, because I was sure James would've mentioned it to me. And Sirius had told me it'd be our secret.

Sirius stopped talking after a few minutes, realizing James had said nothing.

"What the hell, guys?" He asked, frowning, and sitting up. I heard Remus start cursing quietly -- a few times in French ...? -- and then James began laughing like a maniac.

Loudly roaring, and slapping his knee, and saying things like "Ah, Peter's such a dunce".

"Get up, get up, get up." Remus muttered to me, and I could hardly hear him over James's laughter. That was the point, though. Remus pulled something from off the top of James's trunk, hurrying over to me as I started sitting up, and throwing it over me.

"Ah, shoot. Heh." James wiped his eyes a minute later, and Sirius looked at him as if he was insane.

"Wellll...I forgot something in the Common Room," Remus had put James's invisibility cloak over me, and was speaking loudly, as I stumbled over some things strewn on the floor. Yes, the boys worked well under pressure. Insert sarcasm there. "Be right back." He pulled the door open, and just as the cloak slipped, revealing my head, Remus pushed me out through the doorway.

I heard James begin to ask Sirius questions of the evening, making up for the lack of enthusiasm shown a moment earlier. Why...were...what?

"Listen," Remus wasn't being at all gentle. He shoved me down on a couch -- the common room was empty -- and tugged the cloak off of me. "Remember a few days ago when I told you that Sirius nor James had 'discussed you in much depth'?"

"Right." I nodded, folding my arms, and pouted in a childish way. _I _didn't do anything wrong. I don't know why he was being aggressive towards me.

"Well, that changed. And you know how I also said, I'd make sure the two of them never did anything to take the smile from your face?"

"_Yes_. I remember. What's your point?" I sighed, exasperatedly. It was so very late, and being outdoors for so long had gone to my head, and made me tired. My grandmother always said that's the way to get the best sleep of your life. Spend the day outside, and you'll sleep like a baby.

"No, Lily, listen to me, please. Look at me." I had looked away from him, focusing on the floor.

But there was some desperation in his voice -- as if he were suffocating under the weight of whatever it was he had to tell me -- that drew my eyes back to his. And I held his gaze, as he sat down on the couch next to me. He ran a hand through his hair, causing his fringe to stick up, and he sighed heavily.

I was starving to hear what he had to say, now. Even if it was a bit irritating, feeling as if I had done something. It must've been...insanely intense, or something, because I had never seen Remus like this. I had never heard him sigh heavily.

Because everything about him was the opposite of heavy -- _usually_. His features weren't heavy with dark circles, or premature wrinkles. His eyes weren't heavy with a burden. It was a bit of a cruel wake, though. With his fringe sticking up, I could see that everything I just thought was a lie. He was contradicting, at this moment, everything I had previously seen.

There were circles beneath his eyes, and lines lay within the dark circles. He'd rub a hand over his face, and each time he did so he looked more exhausted.

A realization hit me that, yeah, there were going to be things I'd find out about the Marauders that I wouldn't expect.

I tilted my head, and studied him, as he sprawled out further, stretching his legs out, and slumping down on the couch. That divine glow he had to him? Was that much more divine when he was sat next to a glowing hearth. The firelight did him good.

His hair was so unnatural. It _was_ natural, I mean it's just not common. The way it was thick, and straight, yet the ends at the back of his head curled. And the colour was...some golden-blonde, but it was brown, too. I didn't...I didn't know how to describe Remus, and it drove me mad.

"Ohkay. Right. I'm sorry, I'm listening." And I was. Watching him, listening to him, considering him.

"The two of 'em...they make you happy, yeah? That's why I said I'd make sure they never took the smile from your face, and yada, yada, yada. But Lils," I smiled at that. I'd never been called it before. "I don't know why...you were in James's bed, and Hell, I'm sure it wasn't sex, or anything like that -- if it was he must be pretty miserable, because you don't look like you've just had sex -- But yeah, You could...you could live without them. I mean, be fine without them. I'm just not sure whether or not they'd be...fine without you. I think I'm going back on my word, and saying I'm going to ensure that _you_ never take the smile off of Sirius's face. Both of them...don't hurt either of 'em, ohkay? But especially Sirius. James, yeah, he can be pretty cold-hearted, and he can get upset, and all of that. But if you hurt Sirius..." He sighed, again, and rubbed his face, frowning as he tried to figure what to say.

If Remus Lupin wasn't an experienced -- with alcohol -- 17 year old boy, he'd be drunk, I realized with a smile.

"If you hurt Sirius," He repeated carefully, in his rather husky voice. "You'll end up hurt, too, because...he won't be hurt. Does that make sense?"

"Not much."

"I mean, you won't get a reaction out of him. He's cool and casual. He may get angry at you, or anybody, but he won't be _hurt_ over what somebody does. Sorry for using you as an example, as if you'll hurt him for certain, or something. I'm not saying you will. I just can't think."

What? Angry...wasn't being hurt? Yes it was. When you get angry, it's for a reason. You're hurt, you're upset, you're mad -- So you're angry.

"But, Remus...Isn't angry...hurt, too?" He offered me a nod, as if he knew what I had been thinking of.

"For most people. You get to know Sirius a bit better and tell me if he's hurt when he's angry."

* * *

And he was right, I'd come to find. When Sirius was angry, he was furious, horrbile, and relentless. When Sirius was hurt, he was...he was just miserable. And when he was miserable he wasn't sad, he was so angry, no...He was beyond angry. So beyond angry that he could do nothing but breathe, and have sex. Miserable sex. And it was apparent to me that Remus had never seen Sirius miserable, hurt, whatever...And it wasn't so much that he was trying to convince me that Sirius would never be hurt, it was more of him trying to convince himself. 

Sirius was like rock to people. To the Marauders. He was the rock of the Marauders. Peter was some kind of pansy-ass that had cried much too much for a boy. James was strong, and like Sirius, but had his scars to show, and had been hurt. Remus? Had been hurt the most of him.

I blinked, pulling myself out of my thoughts, and looking sharply to Remus.

His eyes, I will consistently describe as stormy blue, and they were certainly stormy tonight.

"They're lucky to have...you care so much. The two of them...are really lucky. Anybody would be to have you,-"

"Be a prying asshole?"

I smiled. "You're a prying asshole I wouldn't mind having around."

"Well, that's good, because I'm much too involved now." And then he smiled.

His smile was intoxicating -- much like he was intoxicat_ed_ -- , and I wondered why he didn't have a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Honestly, when it came to boys as handsome-pretty as Remus, you just..._wish_ he's gay. Especially when you can't have him for yourself. I didn't have any feelings for Remus, I could confidently confirm that. That's about the only thing I could figure out at the moment. But just because I didn't like him didn't mean I would object to throwing him down, and obliging to doing ungodly acts. And just because I didn't like him didn't mean I wanted _other_ girls throwing him down, and having their way with him. God, girls were awful, and would ruin his undeniable charm, and pretty features. But he wasn't gay, and girls would be horrible, and would ruin him, but you wouldn't know he was ruined. He was pretty good at looking perfect all of the time despite everything.

And I hugged him. Wrapped my arms about his neck, loosely draping them, and pulling him close to me. I hadn't hugged James, for we were just friends, and that was a bit too intimate -- for us, at least. (kisses on the cheek, holding hands, and him putting an arm around me was not too intimate, however.) I hadn't hugged Sirius, for we seemed to just skip that stage.

So hugging Remus was some foreign thing. I had only ever hugged my parents, and other relatives before, and it certainly wasn't like this. He wasn't as warm as Sirius -- he was still wearing his winter clothing up 'til a minute ago, and his hands were absolutely freezing, and the ends of his hair were wet from where the snow had fallen onto it, because his hat didn't cover them. The wet just made his hair curl more.

But he smelled of some kind of sweet liqour, and chocolatey mint, which whole-heartedly made up for his lack of heat. And it made me feel something sort of needed, or wanted. Sharing my warmth with this boy.

It was a second before his arms came together around my lower back. But when he hugged me back, he hugged me back well. He rested his head on my shoulder, and I could tell he was groggy with the effects the alcohol was having on him.

And randomness was a thing of beauty from a good-as-drunk boy. "Did James tell you his birthday yet?" He muttered thickly, taking a deep breath.

"Mmm. December 21st?"

I felt him nod against my shoulder, pressing his forehead deeper into it, and his breathing was slow, and steady.

"You've got him, you realize. So bad. He doesn't tell anyone."

* * *

I was so...lost that night. Overwhelmed was a better word. So wonderfully over-whelmed, and afraid to admit such feeling, but... 

Be here. Two words I had once muttered, praying someone would just _be here_. And now people were being here, and I...was in so deep. So, so, lovely & deep.

And needed, maybe I was needed. Maybe this would all work out in the end._**  
**__  
**--**_

**Sunday, December 17th.**

**

* * *

**

I hate my uterus. Honestly, honestly do. So much.

I was lay on my stomach, on my bed in the girls dorm. Not a place I spent much of my time. But I had hardly moved all day. I swore this monthly should've been over a couple of days ago, but urgh, of course not. So here I lay.

Two weeks had passed since...the bonfire night. Two weeks had passed without much incident at all. James and I were...I don't know, actually. He had been sleeping a lot more these past two weeks, and I hadn't talked to him other than in classes. But we were all right.

Sirius hadn't...found out that I was in James's bed that night. Which sounds awful out of context. I don't think he had found out, at least. There were no signs to say he had.

I wouldn't care if he found out. It wasn't anything much. It's not as if there was some looming tension between us, because I felt uncomfortable. I _didn't_ feel uncomfortable. And he hadn't kissed me again, or held me close. He had been talking quietly with me during the evenings, and sometimes absently playing with my fingers, but dammit...I wanted him to kiss me again, so I could remember...I don't know, how it felt, and why it felt like it had...

In the midst of thinking of Sirius's kiss, the door opened, and in came Bridget. I sighed, and she looked to me, and smiled, before heading over to her bed.

"Are you not feeling well?"

She asked, and I groaned, and muttered "no".

"Feel like you have the flu? Not feeling well because of a certain time of month? Not feeling well over some certain bo-oys..."

She spoke in a sing-song, and then came to sit on the edge of my bed.

"Option number two." I sighed, and turned over to my side, clutching my stomach tightly, trying to move as little as possible.

"Here," She had gone over to her nightstand, and found a pill bottle. She handed me a pill, and I dry-swallowed it. "You'll feel better soon. And now that we're on the subject of certain boys..."

Despite how uncomfortable I was feeling, I grinned. Bridget & I had been hanging out a bit more lately. Easing into a friendship of sorts, maybe. I wasn't good at it, though, so it hadn't gone much further than exchanging homework answers, talking about what a typical guy Ray was, and berating Jada Morgan. It was good to know I wasn't the only one who hated my once-best friend.

But those two boys hadn't been brought up. Bridget wasn't stupid, and knew there was something going on, but perhaps found it best to not bring them up. Until now.

"What _is_ going on with Sirius? And James, for that matter?"

"Hell, if I knew, I'd let you know."

She crossed her legs, and made herself comfortable, staring at me intently.

"Which one are you in love with?" She grinned, and I laughed lightly.

"Neither. Sirius & I have...well..." It had been our secret...

"Kissed?"

"Yeah. We kissed. And James & I are just friends. He's suffocatingly intriguing."

Bridget raised a thin, perfectly arched eyebrow. "Those are some intense words for just friends." She said it in a tone that made me feel somewhat guilty, for whatever reason.

I sighed, and thought of it. I couldn't think of how else to say it. "I know, but that's just how it is."

"Are you and Sirius together, then?"

I realized, as Bridget fired off her questions, I knew so little about boys, and relationships. "No."

She gave me a smile, and stood up. "Good luck, Lily," She offered a small laugh, and told me she'd see me later.

**--**

**December 18th.**

**

* * *

**

It was a Monday, and I was in just a _spiffing_ mood as I threw open my text book in Transfiguration class. Second class of the morning.

Potions had been first, I hadn't got out of bed all day Sunday, and so looked like Hell, and was stiff from being in bed so long. I was finally relieved of that time of the month, and I was seriously wondering why I had a uterus. Sure, I liked kids. Sort of. To an extent. But I didn't want any! I always began questioning the laws of the universe after a cycle. Why didn't _men_ have uterus's, and bear children?

"'Morning Lily." Psht. Way to hardly send me a glance all throughout breakfast, and decide to talk to me during class.

"'Lo James." I muttered, concentrating on scribbling down the homework I hadn't completed over the weekend. I had Bridget's answers.

I half-raised my eyes up from the parchment to see him standing at the front of my desk, and looking at me with a bit of a smirk on. "All right." Was all he said, softly, before taking his own seat.

I have rather wavy hair, but today my hair was...frizzy, and poofy, and what the hell, right? Bad hair days should be an excuse to stay off school.

I was in a bad mood and didn't _want_ to be in a good mood.

Christmas break started on Wednesday. Tuesday was our last day, and if you were going home for break, then Tuesday night was when you caught your train. January 4thwas when we went back.

Or, in my case, January 4thth was when classes started again. I'd be staying at Hogwarts, as usual. I've been staying for Holidays since 4th year. When my Mum stopped caring, and my Dad found a new girlfriend. My Mum goes over to America to her sisters place for Christmas. I could go, I guess, but I feel like such an inconvenience. Especially to my Mum. And my Dad? I just...didn't want to be part of his new family. Him & Rebecca had been together for going on 4 years, so they were bound to get married, or something, right? Rebecca had a son a year old than me. He was good-looking. I didn't want to create complications there, wanting to shag my potential step-brother. So I stayed away.

I guess I'm kind of the definition of dysfunction. Or sometime in the years to come, Sirius Black told me I was. I know, right? Sirius Black telling _me_ I was the definition of dysfunction? I think he was joking. Or maybe he wasn't joking when he said it to me, and just never remembered his family and the problems they were and had. Because the Potters were his family, so it made sense, I guess.

My Mum sucked, which may be obvious by now. My sister was a bitch. My Dad was the only decent one, and he was, rightfully so, moving on with his life, while his youngest daughter was off at Hogwarts learning how to be a witch.

I wish I was learning how to be a bitch, though. Honestly, maybe if I had been a bitch my sister would've backed off, and not pulled my hair as much. And maybe if I had been a bitch -- more like my Mum, and Petunia -- my Mum would've told me I was pretty.

* * *

James Potter's Mother was 52, and his Dad was the same age -- give or take a few months. I had not met James's parents before, but I did know that his Dad was some brilliant wizard, and very valuable to the Ministry of Magic. Woo-hoo. Pureblooded wizarding family, with a grandfather that had been _Minister_ of Magic. Not much of a surprise. They were bloody rich, and I didn't know much else. 

But even though I assumed them to be maybe conceited, and snobby -- I wished my parents would be like his. He'd talk of his Mum from time to time, and sounded like he absolutely adored her. Maybe if my parents were _older_ it would've...

Oh, right. My Mum was 17 when she had my sister. Her and my Dad married when Mum was 7 months pregnant, and 2 years later I was born. _What_? 19? Why would she _want_ another baby when she was stupid enough to have her first one? I guess, because they didn't really need to worry. My Dad took over my grandfather's company -- car company -- and was pretty well off for a teenager. So, yeah, sure, why not get your wife pregnant _again_ when you're just 20, and she's 19? Yeah. Go for it.

Urgh. My mother, Violet Evans, was 37. And her ex-husband, Ethan Evans, was 38.

I remember the look on James's face when I called my Mum an immature bitch, and then had to proceed to tell him her age. It was priceless.

I sighed realizing, for once, I hadn't any homework, and probably wouldn't have much over break. Because the next day we had classes like, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, and Charms. I was relatively good in those classes, as it was, so if we did get any work I'd be able to complete it. I loved Christmas Break, but their were times of boredom. You need that homework to pull you back from wishing for school, and to help you remember things. And I worked my ass off in class to get any homework finished, so I was free.

The Common Room was too..._busy_. Everybody was rushing to get their work done, as if it'd be an absolute disaster if they had any over break. And everybody was loud, and it was 10:30, for christ's sake. I sighed, again, and looked around.

Sirius, Remus, and Peter were sat at a table with books all spread out, and Remus could be seen speaking pointedly, and gesturing with his hands as he described something. I made my way over to them, seeing the book he currently had open was defense against the dark arts. Remus was really good in that class...

I scrunched my nose, turned around, and looked for James. I still wasn't in a great mood, and I didn't want to hear Sirius crack anymore PMS jokes like had been for the past week. Even if I was over it now, boys just assume that everything gone wrong with a girl has something to do with _being_ a girl. When half the time it's because of a boy that the girl is in a pissy mood.

* * *

He was running his hand through his hair for what looked like the millionth time as I approached him, sitting there on...on what had been dubbed my couch, with his work spread out on the coffee table. He was writing furiously, and amused, I silently wished the Professor luck at reading that. 

"What're you working on?" I asked him casually, sitting next to him, and picking up a piece of parchment he had finished with.

"Transfiguration." He muttered, frowning hard as he read over what he had written.

I went to make a joke and ask him if he could even read his own writing when he had finished, but...He wrote neat. He picked up writing again, not realizing how dumbfounded I was at this small discovery. His quill moved blindingly fast, but his writing was absolutely...perfect. It was somewhere between cursive writing, and just printing. His letters weren't too big, and the ones he did cursive on weren't loopy, and stretched -- they were curt, and precise. His writing was neater than my own.

"I need that back for a second," James's voice interrupted my...point blank..._stupid_ly amazed thoughts of how good a writer he was.

"Oh. Oh, yeah, here." I handed him the parchment back, realizing I had been rather wide-eyed as I stared, and considered his writing. Why the _bloody hell_ was everything about James Potter so...fascinating?

He added the parchment I had to the end of what he had just finished writing, and put his name in the top, left-hand corner.

"Done. I may have a Potions essay left to write..." It amused me, because...we took the same classes, so we'd have the same amount of work, yet James seemed to be swamped, whereas _I_ had finished ahead of schedule.

"That night when I was asleep in your bed, and just...as I woke up, I mentioned Bridget and how pretty she was, and that I was jealous, and you told me I hadn't a reason to be jealous, and that I was...pretty. Did you mean it?" I suddenly blurted, the simple compliment had been gnawing at me since that night.

He did not pull his hazel-eyes up from his work, though beneath his thin-framed glasses I saw him quirk an eyebrow, and side-glance at me.

"No," Was all he said, shuffling his completed papers, and laying them aside.

Oh.

..."I called you_ beautiful_, and yeah, I meant it."

I felt my cheeks burn as he said this, and I shut my eyes for a shaky second. No one..._ever_...before had...well...called me beautiful, or any form of the word. I suppose, when I was younger...my grandparents may have called me cute, or whatever. But Petunia wasn't really the prettiest child, so they probably didn't give any more attention to the youngest...

But, god dammit, James Potter thought I was beautiful, and even though I wasn't trying to boost my ego, I liked the thought of it. Him. Thinking such a thought. _I_ didn't think I was beautiful. I was impassive when it came to my looks.

**

* * *

(A/N _--_** This is how this next part works...Lily is saying what she thinks of her thoughts, and the part in bold is mainly James's take on her looks, or just glances into future conversations. I know, he already described her, but every girl is insecure, and I want to make certain that you all know that Lily is no exception.

**

* * *

**

I hadn't a chance to express my thanks, because James had moved on to flipping through notes he had taken in Potions class, checking to be sure he had done every assignment that needed to be done by the time classes resumed in January. We didn't write exams before or after Christmas break, but we were usually given major assignments on either side of the break. The only time we wrote exams was at the end of the school year.

"What do you hope to find in a relationship someday?" I asked him, again, suddenly. It seemed the only time I could ask something as personal as that was when his attention wasn't on me at the moment, and I had a second to get the courage to ask him.

This time, James dropped his book shut, and sighed. Removing his glasses, and rubbing the bridge of his nose, he looked to me. "Are you _trying_ to ensure that I'll have homework over the Hols?"

I shrugged. "You shouldn't've been sleeping so bloody much lately, maybe I'd have a more convenient time to talk to you."

"Don't _underestimate_ me. Who says all I've been doing is sleeping?" He snapped at me, shoving his glasses back on his face. I noticed, even though it _was _snapping...He didn't do it properly. His voice just held a bit more edge to it. Didn't get any louder, and stayed rather calm. It amused me.

"For two weeks? In your dorm? During the afternoon and evening?" I smiled, in what would be an irritating way. "_Polishing_ a certain _broomstick_ lately, then, Potter?"

He raised his eyebrows at me, and looked positively stricken. Oh pish, I was no kind of innocent, and he looked like he was just discovering that. Funny thing is -- he never thought me to be anything but innocent. Oh God, it's such a big to-do that I can't explain yet, but...him thinking I was innocent was a comfort...at times.

"I want somebody who knows me," Strike one for me...But what's it matter, right? "Somebody who trusts me. Would put their life in my hands if it came down to it. Someone who doesn't want to change me. Somebody who's one in a million, and everything they say will keep me absolutely enticed, and waiting for more. Someday I want to find somebody, and I'll know I'll wake up with them for the rest of my life. I want somebody who's about as far from perfect that you'll ever find. Honest, and sweet, but...proud, and independent, too. Oh, and she has to cook, and like my Mum."

I grinned. Not looking for much, was he?

And, to my surprise, he returned the question. "And you, Evans?" I frowned, and blinked excessively. "What do you want?"

I had never really considered it, so I took the easy way out. Made myself out to be some kind of scarlet woman, of course.

"Oh, well, I don't want a relationship. I'm going to be a seductress. Boys will push me against the wall, and kiss my neck, and the sounds they'll produce when I touch their hair will be unbelievable," James had moved down onto the floor a few minutes ago, as I better situated myself. At the moment I was laying on my stomach, at an angle, so my upper half was sort of hanging off of the couch, near where James was sitting.

He wouldn't look at me, and that was because I was wearing a chocolate-brown sweater. That had a plunging neckline. And sleeves that were too long. And I was dangling off the side of the couch, the sweater being pulled taut near the bottom as a couple of assets of mine struggled to stay hidden.

So, maybe my cleavage was rather _revealed_. It was the point. My saying I was going to be a seductress.

"You think I'd be any good?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound as throaty, and husky as possible.

"_Lily_." Was all James said, pointedly raising his eyebrows in my direction, and I laughed, flipping over onto my back, and swinging my hair this way and that as my head hung off the couch.

"I, infact, do have an essay to finish, so I'll...see you later, ohkay?"

I sat up, as his voice went soft. Soft. Something I decided I didn't want to be.

"You promise?"

He frowned, as he looked at me. "Promise what, Lily?"

"That you'll see me later."

"It's...just gone 11, I don't know how long I'll have to work on this..." He spoke slowly, and reasonably, as if he were trying to work a deal out with somebody.

I shrugged. "Just come find me when you're done. We'll take a walk."

James Potter's eyebrows flew high for the hundredth time that night, as I briskly made my way to the girls dorm.

I had no idea who I was right now

**--**

**1:48 AM.**

**

* * *

**

Somebody was shaking me awake. I groaned, and muttered something involving my foot and their ass, but they just laughed quietly.

When I had left James in the common room at 11 o'clock, I came up and just threw myself on my bed, sinking into the matress...And I went to sleep.

I needed that sleep. A seductress? I...Oh god...I can never talk to James again. Ever.

"Wake up. C'mon, there's that walk we need to take." Are you _serious_ ? It was James Potter with messy hair, and...and dark circles, and...his invisibility cloak in hand.

"Oh," I buried my head in my pillow, and shook my head furiously. "How the hell did you get up here?"

He laughed quietly. "I have my ways. Come on."

"Fuck, we don't have to go, I was insane earlier. Honestly."

"I want to."

* * *

And so I was dragged from my bed, and taken down into the common room. The moonlight was so bright that it almost overwhelmed the glow of the fire, as it poured in through the window. It was a pretty light night. You know, one of those where it never gets completely dark, or completely black, or something. There's that eerie glow to the sky, and you look out the window and can actually see things moving... 

And it looked like it was freezing out. Probably ten below zero (celcius. 14 fahrenheit, i guess.). Just the way the untouched snow was glittering, calling for somebody to come disturb it. Fill it with the imperfections of their day. Or perhaps just stand there looking at it. The perfection of the crystal-like snow flakes willing you to leave it be.

"I've not got my things. I'll freeze."

I yawned, as I looked to James, all decked out in his winter wear.

"Here." He handed me my winter coat, that he told me he grabbed from the end of my bed.

"I didn't see your scarf, or mitts, though. So," He lifted a scarf from the end of the couch, and draped it around my neck, allowing me to adjust it. "And...I've no gloves for you, but we'll just see how cold it is."

I frowned. Just stared at him in disbelief. He knew I wasn't quite right earlier on. But here he was...And we were going for a walk. No, you see, it just felt like he was trying to push me, or something. Like...Ohkay, we'll go with my stupid idea, and when I get frostbite he can laugh at me, and say how wrong I was...  
But then he smiled, and any thought of him just trying to defy me, or do something in spite of me, it just vanished, because that smile was everything anyone would ever want.

And God, why didn't I want everything right now?

"We could've just gone for a walk around the common room, or up and down the corridor, or something." I hissed at him, as he threw the cloak over the two of us, and we made our way out of the portrait hole.

He just smirked, and all I could see was a faint outline of that smirk, because under the cloak it was dark, and absolutely stifling.

The corridors had no torches lit at this time of night, or morning, whatever it is. So I pulled my wand out, illuminated it, and poked it through the divide in the cloak, giving us some sort of idea where we were going.

* * *

Finally, and miraculously we were at the large, oak doors in the Entrance Hall. 

I bit my lip, and was decidedly unnerved of how this place looked at night. When you made the slightest movement, it seemed to echo throughout the whole castle. It was such a different thing, seeing the castle at night, or not seeing it. Everything was unnaturally dark, and it seemed the light from the moon, and sky, stopped when it reached the windows of the castle.

"Oh God, these damn doors make the loudest noise ever." I muttered. James took my wand from me, and tapped it to the two door handles, muttering something. I held my breath as he pulled the door open.

...Silence.

I let it out in a _woosh_, and James took the cloak off of us, folding it up. To a simple square. Small enough to fit into his pocket. Damn, I had to remember to ask where that cloak came from, and why the hell he had it. Honestly, yeah, sure, go ahead, give an _invisibilty cloak that will enable you to sneak all over the bloody place _-- to a Marauder.

"You're unbelievable."

James laughed, tipping his head back, and sounding so pleasantly awake. "You'd be surprised."

* * *

We walked, and the wind was blowing slightly, and the scarf I was wearing was ruffling around me, but he was walking close, and those broad shoulders of his seemed to block the most bitter bit of the wind's cold, and I clenched my hands and unclenched them to keep them from turning blue with cold. Even if James Potter wasn't out here to prove me stupid, I didn't want the frostbite. 

We stopped about halfway down the path, and just stood, looking around.

My nose was stinging with the transition from warmth to cold, and I sniffed a few times, before letting a deep breath out.

"Is this the craziest thing you've ever done, James Potter?" The wind was blowing lightly still, chilling me to the bone, but I just pulled my coat tighter around me, and adjusted the scarf.

"I think you'd be surprised at the crazy stuff I've done, Lily Evans." I laughed, as James rubbed his gloved hands together, and blew on them to warm them through the material.

"Well. I'm glad you're doing something crazy with me."

It wasn't crazy. Far from it. We were just out on the grounds at, now, 2 AM in the morning. It was just absolutely gorgeous out. For some reason the fact we had snow just seemed to dawn on me. And the moon was so bright, and almost full...The way it shone off of the snow, and made it sparkle, and twinkle, almost more then the stars in the clear sky...

Breathtaking, I swear.

"I'm glad, too,"

That was the end of the night for me. Him saying he was glad, too. But he went on, you see...

"I mean, I hardly know you," I rolled my eyes at this. He had been saying it often. "We're...hardly friends. But here I am."

"James. We're friends. You're my best friend." His casual, here-i-am-there-you-are, glances towards me suddenly changed, and he stared at me.

"Your best friend?" He cleared his throat, and licked his lips.

"God, I hate to say it, because I don't know what you think. Well, obviously you think we're hardly friends. But dammit, you're my best friend and I wish you weren't."

This seemed to be the first...real, solid, actual...moment in our short friendship. My nose wasn't stinging with cold anymore, it was stinging with a sudden rush of emotions, and had the wind not been sweeping by us like it was, I was sure a tear would've fallen.

But my eyes were dry, and none would produce, because I would not blink, and risk the chance of his gaze breaking from mine. I had that gaze right now. It was mine, he was my best friend, and I was not going to let those hazel-green eyes pull away from me when he so desperately needed to know what he was to me.

"You wish I wasn't, because I'm so hesitant to admit a friendship?"

I nodded, and shoved my hands in my pockets. This coat was too long. My hands hardly reached the pockets that were almost at my knees.

But then he was taking my hands in his, after blowing on his own again, and staring at them instead of into my eyes.

"I'm not good at friendships. The boys have just...always been my friends," His forehead creased as he thought hard, as if this -- talking to me, and telling me things -- was going against everything he had formerly done. "I don't _do_ new things. They're foreign to me. _You're_ foreign to me, but I think you're beautiful, and I'm just so mixed up, you know? I don't know how friendships with pretty girls work."

My hands seemed to be a ghostly pale against the black of his gloves, and I wished, wished, wished his fingers would intertwine with mine, and had they done so I wished I'd be able to feel his skin on mine.

But he wasn't Sirius Black, and oddly enough I didn't want to kiss him, or romanticly link myself to him in any way. I just wanted him to hold my hands like he was, if that's all I could have right now. If it's all I wanted right now. If it's all that mattered right now.

"Is that a nice way of saying I don't mean as much to you as you mean to me, but you're considering it?"

His thumbs flickered over my skin, and my breath was suddenly shaky, and constricted.

"It's a nice way of saying that I don't _want_ to think of you as my best friend, but I can't...not realize it. Please believe me when I say I hardly know you, and you hardly know me. But best friends is something that I can...see, and agree with. I'm just not sure how to say it," A grin split across his face, and he looked positively petrified in this mysterious and handsome way of his. "I don't want to admit defeat just yet. Must I say it?"

I smoothed my lips together, and shook my head slightly, furiously biting back a rush of gratitude towards him, in the form of tears.

"You don't have to say a word,"

He looked put out, or something. As if he wanted to say it, say something, but needed my ohkay first.

James swallowed, and went to speak, his lips parting slowly, as if they were too dry to part quickly without hurting them.

"I want to. I just...again, don't know how to."

"Don't say it if you don't think of me as one."

His eyes finally pulled from staring at my hands, to hold my gaze. "Your eyes positively sparkle." He said softly, his breath issuing in a puff of white vapour.

"Are they sparkling now, James Potter?" None of this was sinking in. Sparkling eyes. I couldn't...his eyes...were absolutely intoxicating. So deep, and handsome, and God...he said my eyes sparkled.

"So much. God Lily...You're my best friend, and I mean it. Just in a way I've never known before. If that means anything."

"So much." I choked out, both of our stares going back to his hands almost dearly holding mine in front of him.

And we stood there.

**3:12 AM.**

**

* * *

**I wondered if James had sent out some urgent order, or called in a favour to the ghosts of Hogwarts, or to some adoring Professor. Because there was absolutely no one around. Not even Flich, or his insane cat. I was just expecting somebody. And I kept looking to James out of the corner of my eye. He was looking straight ahead, and seemed light-hearted, so I decided...why ruin it, take our chances, right. 

We made it back to the Common Room, and my eyes were itching to close.

I stifled a yawn, and just stood there -- helpless -- as James took the cloak off us, removed the scarf from around my neck, and draped them over the arm of a couch.

He rubbed his hands together after discarding his things, and went to warm them by the fire, after throwing a few more pieces of wood onto the dying flames.

I watched him, not daring to sit on the couch, because I was sure to fall asleep. And we had _classes_ to wake up for. I almost groaned at the thought. Transfiguration first thing.

"Lily?" His voice sounded loud in the empty common room, opposite of what I had expected. I expected something half-hearted, and exhausted, but he sounded aware, and...fine.

"Yeah?" I joined him in standing next to the hearth.

"Come home with me for Christmas?"

And my eyes were suddenly very open.

"Wh-what? Sorry, pardon?"

He smiled, some hazy, tired smile. "Christmas. If you're staying here, and've nothing better to do, come home with me."

"I...No, James. I can't possibly," I couldn't. No, I mean that would just be horribly...horribly...wonderful.

"Yes you can. I mentioned you in a letter to my Mum. And you know parents, they talk. And you being Head Girl, I guess you were discussed, and my Mum heard that you stayed for most holidays," He spoke slowly, and fumbled with his hands.

"All of them." I corrected, in a flat tone.

Whenever James spoke on my family situation he just seemed uptight, and afraid to say something wrong.

"Right. Well, she told me if we were that good of friends, then...you should spend the Hols with us. And please don't worry about imposing, my Mum bloody lives for the Holidays, and probably has already bought you presents! Don't worry about buying presents for them, we'll go to Diagon Alley once we're back in London, but I think spending Christmas together would be..." He trailed off, looking to me for a hint of positive excitement.

"It'd be nice." I said softly, smiling a honest smile.

"I knew you'd smile," He reached his hand out, and nudged my chin. "And good. She'll be utterly thrilled."

We stood in a bit of an awkward silence for a moment, me smiling all the long. "James, thank you, I mean...You didn't have to invite me," He shrugged, and swept a hand through his hair.

"I want you there."

I nodded, and felt a bit of an overwhelming urge to reach out and hug him. "What do you want for your birthday, then? It's so-on..."

"Can you cook?" He asked, simply.

"Quite well."

"Breakfast." James grinned, and took my hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze. "I want Breakfast for my birthday. Goodnight Lily."

"'Night...James." I moved my hand to my forehead, and brushed my hair behind my ears, before just pressing my cool palm to it. It was the hand he had, briefly, held, and I was so drained that I hadn't enough left in me to properly experience it. But his hands were cold, and almost too dry.

And I was going to his house for Christmas.

**

* * *

**


	9. Boys & Photographs

**Chapter 9  
**"Boys & Photographs"

**7:25 AM. Boys Dorm.**

**

* * *

**

Every other boy in the dorm, was ready, and on their way to breakfast. Three out of the four Marauders included.

James Potter was usually up early, for James Potter quite enjoyed the...quiet before the storm, if you will. And he quite enjoyed a good cup of coffee, and the _Morning Prophet _-- He was old-fashioned, and damn proud of it. He had sleeping habits of a 65 year old man, who had not yet warmed up to technology, or sleeping past 6 AM.

But not this morning.

Remus wandered the dorm looking for his tie, shouting to James to get the hell up, as Peter slung his bookbag over his shoulder.

"See you later." He said with a chuckle towards James, before leaving the dorm, as every other boy -- except for the remaining three Marauders -- had already done.

"Wonder what he was up to last night." Sirius murmured to Remus, as he -- Remus -- took role of the father figure on this morning, and tore James's hangings back.

James groaned, and turned onto his stomach, smothering his head into the pillows.

"Wake the _fuck_ up, Prongs. We need to talk, as it is." Remus growled, while Sirius threw himself down onto the end of James's bed, landing hard on his legs.

"Ah, c'mon James, do what he says. It's almost that time of the month." Sirius grinned up at Remus's, who rolled his eyes.

"Get off my bloody legs." James murmured, turning over onto his back after Sirius had moved.

"Ohkay, listen," Remus had taken to pacing, and had his hands clasped behind his back as he did so. "I know Lily's important to you two now, and that's fine. Whatever. And I know...you have tendencies to not want to keep secrets from girlfriends,-"

"She's not either of our's girlfriend." Sirius reminded, needlessly.

"Shut up. And I know Lily's...so more than a girlfriend, she's a friend. I'm just asking neither of you to exploit us,-"

"Have we before," Black interrupted again.

"No," Remus snapped, stopping his pacing, and turning to him. "But we've not really established a trust when it comes to you and girls. You go and tell her everything about the map, and the passages, and _James's_ invisibility cloak,-"

"She would've found out eventually! She's not stupid,-"

"I know! That's exactly why I'm worried about this." Remus resumed his pacing. He had never gotten like this over the whole werewolf issue before. Not even when it came to the 3 boys finding out.

"It does get rather hard keeping secrets. Perhaps you should just tell her." James murmured, with a yawn, a hand rubbing his face, and the other adjusted his crooked glasses.

"It gets _rather hard_ keeping secrets? Try _being_ the bloody werewolf," Remus sighed, and looked disgusted to an extent. "I know she'll figure it out. She'll start paying more attention to where you disappear to for 3 nights at the end of each month. She'll start wanting to know why I'm gone. She'll put it together before long, and I'm just asking you to let _me_ be the one to tell her -- once it's been figured out how she'll react,-"

"She's a girl, how do you expect her to react? If she doesn't react the way you want her to, it's not like we're going to go and severe all ties with her."

"Sirius, what the flying fuck is wrong with you? I'm trying to be reasonable, mate, but you're making it rather hard. She's my friend too, all right? I get it. She's different. She's smart. I'll tell her, and we'll hope for the best. Got it?"

James gave a nod. "Yeah. You know, I'm sorry. You've just never suggested telling someone before."

"I know." Remus muttered.

"We can trust her," Sirius offered quietly. "We can."

Remus's lips quirked into a smile.

He had never heard those words fall from Sirius Black's lips. The Marauders trusted one another, obviously, very immensely. But even in certain aspects Remus knew that Sirius didn't trust anybody. He found it rather amusing. He was so smitten that he'd completely abandon any thoughts of hesitating to trust her.

"All right. Get the hell up, James."

**

* * *

9:15 AM. Lily. **

* * *

I was sitting in Transfiguration class, hardly coming to terms with the fact I'd be going to the Potters at the end of today. 

Sirius & Remus walked into class quickly, not sending a glance in the direction of anybody. They walked to a table across the aisle from the one I was sitting at. Remus took the inside seat, and Sirius sat in the one closest to the aisle. Peter tagged along, and sat at the empty table behind them.

James did not come to class until 15 mintues after it started.

He walked in, threw a look to McGonagall who was going to each table to check on how the students were doing with the assignment she had just given. Nobody was being particularly quiet. So nobody really noticed James come in -- late. He did it with some sort of quiet grace, and confidence. Taking longer strides than he normally would, putting those long, muscular legs to good use. He nodded at McGonagall as she looked up, and he cleared his throat, as if signalling it was all right for her to continue with whatever she had been saying.

And James Potter sat in the empty seat next to me.

"'Lo Lily." He crooned, grinning cheekily, and leaning back in the wooden chair.

"Bit late don't you think?" I tried to sound casual, but I ended up laughing lightly, in a disbelieved sort of way.

"Yeah, it's your fault."

I grinned, and licked my top lip, tsk'ing him. "Hush." And he just smiled further.

Sirius looked up from his conversation with Remus, and shook his head at his friend, with a smile on his face, much like mine. Sort of disbelieving. But he was proud, too.

"Lucky bastard. Didn't even get in trouble. Sort of ruin the thrill of it?"

Remus scoffed, and threw Sirius a "you're ridiculous" look. "_Ruin_ the _thrill_ of it? You stupid..."

Whatever he said was drowned out for me, because James had picked a lock of my hair up, twirled it for moment, and released it. I looked back to him, and tilted my head, smiling.

"What's up?" I asked, quietly.

"Nothin'," He looked quite sincere. But. "That's the last time we stay out 'til 3 in the morning, Lil." He said quietly, through a grin.

I laughed...rather openly...and just a split second after James's 3-in-the-morning comment Remus looked, sharply, over to us, and stared, before looking back to Sirius. I stared right back at him for a moment, wondering how he had heard what James said. Because he _had_ heard it. James had almost whispered it, because it would only make sense to the two of us. Taken out of context? I could only imagine what Remus was thinking. I did not know how he heard it, though. His hearing couldn't be _that_ good. The aisles were wide, and Sirius was sitting on the outside, and...

The thing is, Remus was, and had been for a bit now, putting pieces together before there was even a puzzle to be made.

And I would deny that puzzle for as long as possible.

And Sirius Black was seemingly as oblivious as Peter. _Seemingly_. Until 12 noon that day. Where he admitted he knew he had no hold on me. Where he suddenly became everything I remember I had known for a brief moment, when we had kissed.

* * *

**12:30 PM. Lunch.**

* * *

I had just gone to get a button-down sweater to put on over my uniform shirt. The shirt was white, I was a girl, it was cold...Self-explanatory. 

I was chewing on my lip, before descending the marble staircase, to go back to grab a bite to eat.

15 days. January 2rd was when we went back, and classes resumed the 4th. 2 weeks, then. With...with a family...

That was so good. This amazing family who had so much history, and was so pureblooded, and seemed to have good hearts...But a family that I didn't even know. A boy I hardly knew, really. 15 days.

I was just...realizing that. I hadn't packed yet. I hadn't...really thought about it.

Yesterday I was a different person. Or so it seemed. Yesterday I would've considered Jada Morgan a friend. Yesterday I hated James Potter, hardly knew Sirius, and Remus, and had barely spoken a word to Bridget Harris.

I was...stupid, and so sure of what I would settle for once I had graduated. I'd meet a nice, well off, Ministry official. Get married, have a couple of kids, and be a homemaker. It's what every woman seemed to be doing in the past decade. Less and less were applying for Ministry jobs, or to be a Healer, and so many were just settling, and being content, but not knowing what else they could have had. A couple of years ago I was exactly like those women.

But now? I had no idea who I was, or what I wanted -- or who I wanted, for that matter -- and what I'd be doing when I was finished school. And it was the most exhilirated, and alive that I had ever felt. Even if I was scared while being so.

And just then I noticed Sirius Black was at the bottom of the staircase, seeming to be...to be waiting for me...

* * *

"Hey you." I greeted the Marauder softly, sweetly, and with a smile of the same description on my face. It just happened when he was near me. 

"Hey." He said in a quick breath, and the next thing I knew he was slipping his hand through the crook of my elbow, and pulling me over to a shadowy corner.

Sirius wasn't as tall as Remus or James. Remus was a couple inches over 6 feet, and James was probably 6 feet just on, or a little taller. But Sirius was in the 5 foot range. 5'9, probably. He was not that tall, and I was just noticing it.

He didn't need to stoop down that much that night he kissed me. And he could see into my eyes so bloody well. I was 5'5. So he wasn't too much taller than me. It was suddenly apparent to me, and suddenly the most dizzying thing there could possibly be. It was nice to feel protected. To feel shielded, and hidden. And usually the height of a boy gave you the most secure feeling in the world. James was tall. Being around him, I always felt...hidden. Felt safe from any accusations. And Sirius being shorter, I thought maybe I'd feel uncomfortable, or exposed, but he somehow still managed to hold himself a bit higher, and a bit stronger.

He was warm. I would not get over how warm Sirius was. Even if those eyes were such a cold, striking colour..._He_ was warm. And he was close, and he always had a casual, shrug, look to his shoulders. And he was so undeniably handsome. Sometimes I felt dark, deep, brown eyes would fit him better. For he had dark, deep, chocolate-brown hair. The darker tone of his skin.

But the second I imagined him with brown eyes, I then couldn't imagine him without those grey, grey, blue eyes. They were piercing, and sometimes breathtaking, and yes...They wholly belonged to Sirius Black.

"Excited for the Hols?" He asked, with a slight grin, shoving his hands into his black uniform, slacks.

"I am, I must admit. Are you?" I watched him almost eagerly. Just anticipating any facial expression he were to make.

"I am. Yes. They're always...enjoyable. I went to James's for the summer, so I'll be spending Christmas with Remus. I've just alternated between the two since 3rd year. But it doesn't much matter. Remus is always over to the Potter's as it is. And his whole family spends Christmas Eve at the Potter's. His parents, and what not. I was thinking, though, Lily. You...I don't know what you're doing for the Holidays, but chances have it we won't be seeing each other. And I don't think...perhaps we shouldn't exchange gifts,"

"Oh, all right," I nodded. "That's fine. I understand."

"I'm just afraid it would make things...too real."

My eyebrows flew high, and I stared at him, feeling rather superior that I came to level with about his chin. Dammit, had I been wearing heels I may be able to stare him square in the eye.

I felt some surge of...anger, or something. Too real?

"Too real?" I voiced my thoughts. "What about _this_ has been _too real_?" My voice was almost shrill, but I struggled to keep it at a whisper. Everything seemed to echo in these halls. "You've kissed me once, and have shown no signs of wanting to persue something! I can't assume you want something, when you don't..._seem_ like you do. When you've not said anything. I don't know how you feel about me! You seem to think things will fall into bloody place,-"

"You don't know how I feel about you? I kissed you, for christ's sake. That should be saying something. _I_ don't know how _you_ feel about me! You and James being so bloody close, and knowing more of one another than I've even thought about," He looked away from me as he spoke, gesturing with his hands, and almost pouting.

"Stop acting like a bloody _child_. James and I are friends. At least he tells me things. He's shown interest in being friends, so thus...We're friends. You've shown interest in nothing since that night,-"

"Stop bloody well _lying_." He said calmly to me, spinning back to face me. "I have so. I've tried so hard to figure it out, and _let you know_ that I feel...something for you."

I pursed my lips, and stuck out my chin, trying to hold myself higher. "You're a bastard, Sirius Black." He had gone to turn away.

But he turned back around, and tilted his head at me, studying me a bit, as if he were amused by my comment.

And then he was cradling the back of my head in his hand, leaning down, and giving me a chaste kiss.

His lips had not changed since that night I had kissed them. He hadn't changed. He was still everything that I remembered from that night. Still warm, still burning, still held some secret passion.

His lips were warm, and sweet, and begged to be kissed properly. For he would not let me do that. He just pressed his lips to my own, and seemed to relish in the feel of it for a moment. His teeth hardly grazed my bottom lip, and I was silently pleading with him to deepen the kiss, but he did not. He pulled back after a few seconds, and looked down at me -- the short distance that it was -- and took a deep breath.

"That's all I wanted," I wasn't sure whether he wanted the kiss, or for me to call him a bastard. "You confuse me...so badly. I've just wanted to...have something with you. I _want_ something with you. It just stings to know I've got no hold on you, but you, Lily, have...have quite a hold on me."

I swallowed, and shook my head briefly. "I'm sorry that I'm so awful at expressing my appreciation for those who affect me as immensely as you do. But by any means, do not think that you've got _'no hold on me_'. You do, that's all I can offer. I don't know how to go any further than that at the moment. I won't. I just...I would settle for so little. I don't...want the world. I don't want some fairy tale romance. I want...I want _this_. I want to be warm, and know that I affect you, and just a hand to hold, or something. God damn it, Sirius," I paused, and ran a hand through my hair. "And I,...For Christmas, I will be seeing you. I'm...I'm going to James's." I spoke stiffly, almost coldly. I didn't care, though, because I couldn't think about this now. I was going to be happy for Christmas, dammit.

"Oh. Yeah," He didn't seem to hear anything but my last sentence. "I guess I will be seeing you. Until then, Lily." He took one hand from his pocket, and gave me a two-finger wave, before turning his back on me, and...walking back to the great hall. And he looked absolutely fine.

Remus had been right. If I hurt Sirius, _I_ would end up hurt, because _Sirius wouldn't _be hurt. I just...tried to hurt him. Elicit some sort of jealous rampage out of him. He was calm. He was fine with it. He didn't bat an eye, and it was going to drive me bloody well mad. I wasn't hurt. Slightly put out, but not hurt.

And _now _I was dizzy for a completely different reason. I did not know what any of that had meant. I meant something to him. He wanted something with me. But once again, it was left...hanging there. Waiting for something, someone to...say, yeah, they're going to have something more. Honestly, though, were we going to have something more...

I stared after him, but for a second, before tearing my eyes away, and putting my fingers to my bottom lip which was protruding in a sort of pout...The second kiss was much like the first, and I closed my eyes, silently praying that every kiss had with any person would feel like the first. I doubted it could get much better than that. The feelings may change, and you may become better at it...But there was nothing quite like, even in my years to come, the first time you kissed a boy's lips, hoping he enjoyed kissing yours just as well.

I was just about to leave the shadowy corner, and go into the great hall, when the doors opened. The tall, golden-handsome that came out from the hall made me smile, almost involuntarily.

He pulled something from his pocket, looked around the entrance foyer -- didn't spot me -- and then pulled open one of the huge doors.

And I found myself following him through them.

So, perhaps he wanted to be alone. Why else would he go outdoors in -15 degree weather?

There was something about him. Some secret mystery...Not as mysterious as James. For James was subtly mysterious, and I would learn just how boldly mysterious Remus was. How it was fitting for him to be secretive and mysterious. He had a world of secrets. He lived in a secret.

"Hello Lily Evans." He greeted smoothly, as I joined him on the cold, stone, step.

He was leaning back against the jut of stone wall there was, in this little enclosure at the top of the steps. And he looked good. He did, indeed, look weary. But in a self-assured way. In an ohkay way.

And there was a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

It took me by surprise -- sort of. It seemed right. Normally, I thought smoking was obnoxious. My Mum smoked. Those long, thin, cigarettes that rich women smoked to look posh, or something. She had no reason to smoke, though. Her friends did it. That's a tad pathetic, isn't it? It's not as if she led a stressful life. She couldn't've been happier when her and Dad got divorced. She got lots of money out of that.

But Remus seemed beyond his years. Everything about him. His eyes were full of some emotion that I had not experienced in my 18 years, and would not experience properly. Some sort of mixture of rage, and desperation, and love, and hate, _and need_ all pounded together ruthlessly. They were lovely, though. And the premature lines that protruded on some days around his eyes...They were there for a reason. A 17 year old boy did not have those for no reason. A 17 year old boys eyes did not look like that...for no reason. And his gaze was that of impassive scrutiny. I wondered if he trusted me. Or liked me, for that matter. He was somebody that could hide well. Hide everything well...

"How are you doing." He asked, though it did not sound sincere in the slightest. Remus Lupin removed the cigarette from his mouth, after taking a drag, and blew smoke out in a straight shot.

"Good enough," I replied, chuckling needlessly. I felt...awkward, for some reason. "I didn't know you smoked."

Way to be blunt, Lily.

"Well, you do now," And he grinned at me, with his dimpled grin. I always thought he always had...one, single dimple, in his left cheek. But it was because he usually just quirked that side of his mouth in a lopsided grin.

They weren't...ugly, oh-my-god, way-too-indented dimples. They were slight curves near his mouth, and they were the only boyish aspect to him.

"Thank God it's the Holidays, eh." Remus said, whilst flicking the end of the cigarette against the stone of the castle, and ashes flew from the end of it.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm quite happy. Sirius going to your place, mmm?"

Remus nodded. "We always end up hanging out together, though. James, Sirius, and I. Almost every day of break," I nodded slightly as he spoke, showing I was giving my attention.

He then looked to me, kind of sharply, but in a lazy, sort of dominant fashion. "Going to James's place, mmm?" Remus said it the same way I had mentioned Sirius, and for a moment I didn't catch on. I had just began to nod, but caught myself in the midst of it.

"James told you." I choked out, not enjoying the smirk playing over Remus's face.

"Did you expect him not to?" He quipped back, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know, I just,-"

"Don't worry. He didn't mean to. It slipped, and he didn't just say that to cover up. He looked absolutely mortified. Which one of you is going to be the one to tell Sirius?"

"I already did. And you were right. He's calm, and collected. Fuck." I folded my arms, and hugged myself, looking away from Remus, and instead out over the grounds.

"There's got to be some story behind you, Lily Evans. Did your parents die in a tragic accident," He knew very well that they were both alive. "Are you some unbelievable witch, with powers beyond your own expectations? Are you a Veela? What the _bloody hell_ is it that is so amazing about you? Because there's got to be something!" He was shouting, yet...looked perfectly calm. Though he seemed to take longer drags off of the cigarette. "My best friends are blinded by something about you, and I'd sure as hell like to know what. That, and what your intentions are."

"My intentions?" I nearly laughed. "Damn me for wanting friends, yeah? Do you not like to share, Remus Lupin? Sure seems it."

He sighed, and sank down the wall, until he was sitting against it. I felt...kind of bad. He was frowning, and staring at his hands, until he raised one to take the cigarette from his mouth.

"Do you smoke?" He asked, and I shook my head, going to stand by the wall he was sitting against.

"Good. Don't start. None of the other Marauders do, by the way." Somehow he knew that would be some sort of...reassurance to me.

I sank down next to him, and he threw the cigarette out over the side of the stair's banister. The wind was blowing _against_ the stone wall we were leaning on, so we were sheltered from it.

"I'm not trying to hurt anybody, Remus." I said quietly, after a few mintues of freezing together.

He shook his head slowly. "I know. I'm just really hostile towards you. I don't mean to be. I just...God, Lily, what the hell are you doing with them? You and James...you were out 'til 3 in the morning? I overheard..."

"We went for a walk, Remus. Honestly, we're not...doing anything stupid."

He nodded curtly, and seemed intent on not looking at me. "I wish you and be friends...too. I'm not trying to take your, or anybody's, place." I said quietly.

"_I know_. Stop trying to reassure me, or whatever the hell. I'm not insecure. I'm just worried, or seeing things that aren't there..._or something_."

I never thought Remus Lupin to be bitter, or hostile, or upset, or anything that he was right now. It was something I would rarely see, and when I did -- it meant something to me. He was trying hard not to let me see him, but I broke something down around him that bitterly cold day, and as hard as it got after that, I...saw a bit of him. And he couldn't take that back now.

He was not any sort of divine right now, there was no glow, and no charming grin. He didn't smell of sweet liquor, or nice cologne. He smelled of rich, cigarette smoke, and the crisp winter breeze. Sitting there, talking to him, indulging him, opening up to him -- I did not know which scent I could have preferred.

"I think you're...strong, Remus. I'm determined to make you trust me with your friends."

A small smile split across his face, and he quickly took both of my hands in his own, clasping them between his. I smiled a small smile at this. His hands weren't warm, but warmer than the biting air.

"I do trust you. They trust you. That's what's scary about all of this."

Earning the trust of the Marauders, even if through one of them, was an immense step for me, and my eyes stung as I considered all of this, and was decidedly overwhelmed.

Sitting there, in the cold with him.

"I'm freezing, Lil," He rubbed his hands over mine, giving them some sort of quick, rugged warmth. "Let's go in."

I nodded, but was silent, and just let him lead me in through the doors.

We stood together for a moment in the entrance hall, and he draped his arm around my shoulders as we walked to the doors to the great hall.

I wondered something, as we stood for a moment. I wondered...whether I should get my hopes up, you know.

"When you said you trusted me -- did you mean you trusted me with your _friends_? Or," His arm came from around my shoulders, quickly, and he faced the doors, turning his back to me. "Or did you mean that _you_ trusted _me_ as a person..."

"Hem," He cleared his throat, needlessly, and a hand slowly ran back through his hair. "I trust you with my friends. With James & Sirius. I trust you...to care about 'em, you know. Whatever the hell it is you guys want in a friendship. I trust you could succeed quite well in giving them that. I don't...trust that you won't _hurt_ them. I don't trust that...you won't hate them at some point. I don't trust you, no, Lily."

"And how, exactly, do I earn your trust?" It was weird, it very much felt like asking for a blessing.

He turned around, and met my eye. Finally. I thought it a bit cowardly not to.

"When you can look me in the eye, and say that you trust me. Us." He said reasonably, though very much like he was surrendering something.

I stared into those mature, _stormy_, eyes. Full of some sort of turmoil, and strength.

"Can you do it, Lily?" Remus said, in barely a whisper, his mouth quirking into a sad smile.

I pursed my lips, preparing to say something. "No. I can't. I've no reason to trust you," I muttered curtly, walking closer to him. "Not yet, anyway. I need something more than a couple of months."

He looked amused. "They do trust you. Sirius does at least. He's the only one who's been vocal of it."

"I guess maybe he is blinded by something."

"Ah, blinded by Lily Evans. And you know...You're right. You do have no reason to trust me, or any of us. It's nice, though. We're all on the same page."

Except for Sirius Black, who was incredibly out of the loop. For lack of a better phrase.

* * *

**5:11 PM.

* * *

**

We were to be at Hogsmeade Station by 6 o'clock, and on the train by quarter after. The train wouldn't be in at Platform 9 3/4 until well past midnight.

It was just gone ten after five, and I had just finished packing.

I had parted with Remus at Lunch -- I had gone back to the Great Hall, and he did not.

Classes went fast, not much work was accomplished, I was skipping out on dinner because I hadn't packed a single thing. Until 10 minutes ago. And when I was packing, I was just mindlessly doing it. I was panicking, or something of the sort.

James had only spoke to me that once in Transfiguration, and he had mentioned nothing of Christmas. I was beginning to wonder whether he really had invited me, or I just imagined it, or something. Sometimes I do that. Wonder if stuff I, or other people, had said was actual, and real. And I was thoroughly doubting my sanity at the moment, thinking James Potter would not invite me to his family's house for Christmas. This...family of high standards, and purest blood there was.

And if he had invited me, maybe he didn't mention it again, because he hoped I'd forget about it, after he realized it was for the better if I didn't show up. Maybe he became revolted at the thought of me, staying with his family for 2 weeks. Maybe he realized his family would not accept me. Maybe I wasn't good enough to bring home, even as a friend. Hell, I didn't consider myself good enough for James Potter, as a friend, I couldn't imagine 'bringing me home to Mom'.

And, on top of all of that, -- if I was really going home with James Potter -- I didn't know what to wear. To meet his parents. It would be gone 1 in the morning by the time we were back to his home, I'd assume, and maybe it'd be acceptable if I didn't look completely put together. _But I didn't know_. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what _they_ expected. I was so bloody lost, and on the verge of a break down, and it hurt so much, because I missed...I missed my family. My grandparents, my sister even, my Dad. My aunts, uncles, and cousins. They were all scattered all over the country, and even other continents. So it was impossible to get together for the Holidays anyway. There was no sense in me going home to an empty house.

I looked to my bed, covered with all of the clothes that I hadn't packed, and I just stared. I put my hands over my eyes, and then slid them into place on my cheeks.

"What do I do," I bemoaned, still staring at the clothing. Though I was talking about more than just the attire.

There was a knock to the door, and then it opened, and I sniffed quickly on the tears threatening to fall. Fuck crying. I'm so over it.

And there was James Potter, in dark-rinse blue, relaxed-fit, jeans. A white button-down with small horizontal grey & blue stripes.

He was fidgeting with the buttons on his cuffs, and furrowing his brow at me.

"Lil, honestly, we've got to get your luggage down to the carriages." He quit with the buttons, focusing on me.

"I, um. I know, I...It's there, I just," He grabbed the baggage, and took it from the dorm -- I did not see it again until his house -- quickly turning back to me, and noting I was still in my uniform.

"You can get changed, you know. You don't have to wear that..."

"James," I croaked, clenching my teeth, and willing my eyes to stop burning. "I don't think I'll...I mean, I don't feel as if I should go with you now,-"

"Bullocks. Lily, what's the matter?"

The dorm was semi-dark, and I couldn't see properly into those hazel-green's of his. But I felt it. I felt him...looking at me, and that scared me senseless.  
**  
--**

"Am I...Will I be imposing? Honestly, did your Mum just feel bad, and ask you to invite me out of some sort of twisted pity,-"

"Please, don't underestimate my Mum,-"

"Am I good enough to be there, James? Honestly."

He stepped closer to me, and I set my shoulders back, staring back into the fact that was staring at me.

_"Honestly_. My family's not like that. The Malfoy's, or whatever. They're pureblooded, yes, but it means nothing to them. They rather admire Muggle things. They've got electricity, and everything. I just...thought maybe you'd like to have a proper Christmas. If you'd rather go home, I don't know. Please, though. My family's not like that. _Don't_ ever...think of them to be. They'll adore you."

Adore me. God, a girl wasn't about to ask for that. But, it sure sounded nice. Even if I hardly believed it, or had any...any faith in his words.

"Say something," His lips barely moving, and his words drawn together. "Believe me. Would you fucking believe me, please? Lily," I opened my mouth and tried to say something, but nothing would allow itself to be said. I couldn't declare my dissatisfaction with his reassurance. "You can't act like that, you realize. You can't just nod, accept what I say, but not tell me when it's bothering you. Is it bothering you? Lily, darling,-"

And suddenly my lack of faith, and lack of strength, and lack of every good feeling came flooding back, and my head took a slight lurch forward at the power of these emotions.

He frowned at me, a concerned frown, and stepped closer, tilting his head, and gazing down at me. "Lily, darling," He repeated it. Those two words. My name. And darling. That could save me a hundred times over right now. "You have nothing to worry about. Not a thing. If you don't want to come -- then that's a shame. Because it's the Holidays, and I'm not about to let you stay here alone," A playful smile, one I didn't see often, blessed his lips, and I shook my head slowly.

"I'm sorry. I just...Got really insecure for a moment. This afternoon, my mind just started playing all sorts of games on me."

I turned to watch where he had went. Over to the side of my bed, looking down at my scattered clothes. He pulled his wand out, and said an incantation that lit a flame in the lamps throughout the dorm.

"I want to look nice, as absolutely corny as that sounds," He just nodded, concentrating fully on my wardrobe.

"They won't care. But I understand,"

"_You_ look nice." I complimented, and he shrugged, not looking at me, and brushing the comment off.

"Pick something. I'll tell you what I think. I'm don't fancy picking girls clothes out, but it wouldn't be the first time." The image of James grudginly helping a smitten girl pick out an outfit made me grin. In my mind that smitten girl wasn't myself, though. I didn't see it.

I picked a pair of darker-rinsed jeans-- with a slight flare -- that almost matched his own in the colour. He nodded.

"Casual yet classy."

He muttered, and I laughed at him.

I picked a boat-necked sweater up, that was quite soft to touch. It was a purple-ish, charcoal colour.

"Lovely. Change." He turned his back, and folded his arms.

I stared for a moment, feeling hesitant, and amused over his quick responses. He just wanted to get it over with.

"Will it look,-"

"Lily, hem. We have to leave this castle by 5:30 in order to be on time. All right? I'm not going to look, I'm no,-"

"No, no. It's fine. I tru...Ohkay." I bit my lip, and cursed myself inwardly. I couldn't even say 'i trust you' as the saying. After lunch time with Remus...I was weary to venture onto uneasy conversation topics with James inparticular.

I took my shirt off, and tossed it onto the bed.

Except for it didn't land on the bed. James was still semi-standing in the way, and it hit him, and draped over his shoulder. He laughed quietly, and picked it up from his shoulder, putting it where I had orginally intended for it to land.

I pulled the sweater on, and jeans on, clearing my throat as indication I was done.

He turned around, and it might have just been the flickering lamps all around the dorm, but his gaze was...penetrating, once again, but this time it didn't scare me senseless.

"Oh, this necklace doesn't match." I went over to the bed stand and found a simple, gold chain, a diamond dangling from it, embedded in gold.

"Can I see that?" He asked, with interest, as I took off the necklace I had been wearing. "It's nice. Kinda old-fashioned looking, but...yeah, it's nice. Where did you get it?" _Why_ did James have to be like that? Most guys don't really give a damn where a necklace came from. But of course, me wearing the one Sirius gave me, James would want to know.

"Oh, it was a birthday present." I clasped the other necklace on, and he set Sirius's gift to me on the stand.

There was a moment of silence, and I just shut my eyes, my hand jumping to my collarbone, and tracing over it, like I sometimes did to calm myself. I crossed my other arm over to cradle my elbow, and just continued to trace my fingertips back and forth...It was warm in the dorm, and I was less nervous about...a 6 hour long train ride with James to James's house to meet James's family.

"So, I guess we're done in here," He waved his wand, and the clothes on my bed disappeared to my closet.

"Thanks." I said quietly, opening my eyes and looking to him.

He came closer to me, and was smiling a bit at me. He seemed determined to hold my gaze, not let my eyes fall from his, and not let his own fall from mine. James didn't like coming off disrespectful. To me, I found after time went on. He liked to look in my eyes, but never would let me catch him looking _me_, as a whole, over.

"Do I look ohkay?" I voyaged, trying to push him.

"You look lovely." He answered, quietly, his eyes not leaving mine. I was blinking excessively, and him not at all.

"You didn't even look." I pointed out, a bit amused.

And then he did something that surprised me, and would continue to surprise me. His eyes moved slowly down my face, jumping back to hold my gaze for a moment, but then continued trailing down.

When his gaze came to my hand tracing over the base of my neck, he came closer. He licked his lips, mindlessly, and reached a hand out, carefully taking my necklace in his hand. I quickly moved my hand away, careful to avoid any contact with his skin.

He let the necklace drop back to my collarbone, and parted his lips as if to say something. But he said nothing, just reached his hand forward quickly, and touched the diamond again...Then touching my collarbone, and then he pulled his hand back, and frowned.

"You look fine, really." He muttered, a bit of a gruff tone to his voice.

I pressed my lips together, trying to contain my laughter at his modesty. It was _him_ doing the touching.

"It's ohkay, you know," I said, the amusement coming out in my voice, and probably dancing in my eyes, or something. "I like shoulders way too much. We've all got our quirks."

James laughed, and put a hand on his face. "Yeah, hem. Get your coat." He grinned a toothy grin at me, and I did as he said.

I put my coat on, and James grabbed my hand, pulling me from the dorm, muttering about how women are always slow.

As soon as we got to the end of staircase -- it turned into a slide, and then back to the staircase. James grinned at me. "The charm we learned isn't permanent."

I shook my head, and looked around the rather deserted common room. A lot of people were going home for Christmas, seeming their wasn't a ball, or anything, to stick around for. Hem, so I convinced James being Heads didn't mean we needed to have a bloody _ball_. He went for it. Neither of us were too in to decorating, and planning, just to make other people happy. You know, I didn't want to do the hall up all nice, and those bloody Slytherins come enjoy my hard work.

"You know, thank you for this," I hadn't let his hand go from mine. The very ends of our fingertips were loosely holding onto the others, and I'm not sure he even noticed this.

"For Christmas? It's nothing. My birthday's soon. I'm looking forward to that breakfast in bed," I rolled my eyes. He honestly thought I was going to cook for him, for his birthday present?

He was such a boy. Just...a complete boy. He'd be 18 in 2 days, and may just be considered a man if he didn't have such fly-away hair, and such a boyish grin. James Potter could be a man, maybe, if he tried. James Potter was a man, and need not try. I was just too taken with this untainted, unflawed, boyish image of him to open my eyes wide enough and realize just how mature he was. Just who he was.

"It'll be fine, Lily," We stopped by the couch, and he picked his coat up, throwing it on, unclasping our intertwined fingers. It wasn't much, though. For I couldn't properly feel the warmth of his skin, touching so little of it. Every bloody detail of him, though. Every little thing...I wanted to know _every little thing_. But not...in a way that was more-than-friends...Him & I were so...so in the midst of things. Moving towards something, figuring out just how much the other meant to them...

And when his jacket, and gloves were on -- I had put my own gloves on -- he began walking towards the portrait hole -- his friends had already left, it seemed -- and he grabbed onto my hand again, walking along at a fast pace, so he might've been dragging me, but all I knew was his hand.

He hummed quietly as we walked, a sort of soothing melody, that was absolutely lovely.

_Christmas, Lily_ - I told myself - _will be...absolutely...lovely._

* * *

**5:35 PM.

* * *

**

We hadn't even left the castle yet. Well, we got hungry. James skipped out on dinner, too, to finish an assignment that had to be passed in by the end of the day, and I, as I said, was packing. So we stopped at the kitchens.

"Ohkay, we really need to go catch a carriage. If there're any left. C'mon."

We started walking at a fast pace, and as we neared the front doors we caught up with Bridget, and Ray. Also, Remus & Sirius, coming from the direction of the entrance to the Syltherin's Common Room. I didn't have time to raise suspicious eyebrows.

"Hey." I said cheerfully, jumping next to Bridget, as she grinned.

"Hey! You guys late, too? Let's go catch that last carriage."

And we did. All...6 of us. It was a rather crammed ride.

While we were walking to the carriages, Bridget and I legged behind the boys, who were beating on each other, and throwing snow, and I didn't really want to be cold.

"You're going to James's for Christmas?" She said in a sort of whispery squeal.

"Yeah, I...am." I smiled, watching the raven-haired Marauder duck a snowball thrown by Sirius.

It was funny, and maybe a little ironic -- James would...always duck anything thrown by Sirius. Whether litterally, or just...Between...the three of us, in the times to come. James was level-headed, and God bless him for that.

"Oh! I've got some thing for you. Not a present, just," She pulled a few things from her pocket. "Here." We kept walking, and I took the photographs she handed me.

"There were more, but these are the ones with you guys. Thought you might like to have them."

There were 4 or 5 pictures from that night of the bonfire. Some magical, and some were still.

The first in the stack was of Bridget, and Ray, that I had taken. This one was magical. I smiled, and looked to the next one.

It was James, Bridget, and Ray. The two boys had their arms draped around Bridget, and were leaning on her, grinning. This one was magical, too, and they were ruffling her hair at the moment.

The next was...Well.

It was James and I. I didn't even remember this picture.

"God," I muttered, holding it cloesr to my face, and inspecting it. We weren't moving. This was the only one that wasn't magical.

The two of us were sitting on one of the logs, and James had his arm around my shoulder. I had one of my hands splayed against his chest, and looked as if I had been laughing when the picture was taken. He was looking straight at the camera, and it may have been the most flattering picture I had ever seen of him. It was dark behind us, but the flash from the camera, and the glow from the fire illuminated his face. Shadows were cast down at angles over his cheeks, and it was just that...that little bit of mystery protruding.

The embarrassing thing, though, was that I was looking at him. Looking up at him while he grinned a boyish grin at the camera. With this...adorning, admiring sort of look on my face.

"Why isn't this one magical?" I asked, showing her the one I was talking about.

"I don't know. It's the only one of the bunch that didn't come back developed magically. Curious, I guess. But, really, what else is there for you two to do? I think...that picture kinda says it all, Lily."

"No, Bridget, just...Let's not talk about any of that right now." She offered a nod, a slight smile on her face, as I looked to the next one. It was of Bridget & I and we were grinning wildly.

The last one was...was of James & I. Dance-twirling, or whatever he had done that night. I sucked in a sharp breath, and was astonished at how...nice I looked. Not physically, or anything. My hair didn't look incredible that night, and my eyelashes weren't curled to perfection, or anything...I just looked nice, and happy whilst being twirled by him. Safe.

"Thank you for these. Best present I'll probably get."

* * *

**7:45 PM.** **

* * *

**

It had been so long since I had taken this Train ride. The train ride _to_ school was bloody hetic, and crowded, and you didn't appreciate the way the train lurched about, giving your stomach the most upset feeling.

It had been awhile since I had gone home for Christmas, but it was the same as always. It certainly wasn't as crowded, and for some reason the ride seemed slower. Calmer. Like we were in less of a rush.

There was snow on the ground, and soft flurries falling in no hurry. As we pressed on, the scenery changed. The trees had ice caked around their branches, and were sagging slightly from the weight of it.

I sighed, and leaned my head against the cool window. Bridget & I were in a compartment alone, for the time, and she had gone to find the snack cart.

We had been in a compartment with the boys, but they took to being typical boys, for once. They had been eating Chocolate Frogs, and _somehow_ twisted their minds up enough to find something perverted in a picture of a wizard or witch, or in their name -- the cards found in the chocolate frogs. So, Bridget and I found a compartment a few down from theirs.

I had put the pictures Bridget gave me in my coat pocket, and had my hand tucked in it, making sure they were still there. And they were. And I hated myself for loving them so much.

"Hey girls." I think they were programmed to sense...whatever. Free food. Just as Bridget came back with an armful of snacks, the boys entered. Peter, I wasn't sure where he was. Maybe his parents were just going to meet him in Hogsmeade, and Apparate with him from there. Peter could Apparate, which surprised me, but yes. James, and Sirius could Apparate. Myself, and Remus, hadn't yet gotten around to taking the test. I suppose it was a bit of an inconvenience for James, but...oh well.

"Hey," Bridget & I greeted, and we all just ate, and talked, and hexed each other for awhile.

**10:00 PM.**

**

* * *

**

Everybody was absolutely exhausted, and I couldn't believe we were still on a bloody _train_. Ohkay, it was all magical, and pretty at first, but now it was dark, and you couldn't see the snow, and the moon and stars were hidden behind thick clouds, and we were all just sprawled out over the seats.

"You wanna go see if we can get some sleep?" Ray suggested, quietly, to Bridget, and she nodded.

"See you later, perhaps. If not -- Merry Christmas. I'll owl you." I nodded, and smiled, wishing her a Merry Christmas, as well.

I yawned, and leaned my head back against the seat, feeling quite surreal.

Like...The train was moving, and we were going home, but after so many hours you just become accustom to it, and the odd lighting, and just seem to sink into this boxed up world. My head felt strange. Train's just..._did_ that to me.

"Eh, Remus, let's go get some sleep, too."

Remus nodded, and bade goodnight to me. Sirius leant down and pecked me quickly on the cheek. Because James Potter was staring out the window, and not at all at us. I don't think Sirius even realized it, never even took note. It was just out of luck that both boys seemed...oblivious to some things.

By half passed 10, the lights on the train were dimmed, and my eyelids drooped suddenly, feeling this overpowering sense of...rest. Peace.

And by half passed ten, James and I hadn't said a word to one another. We hadn't, really talked, since before we got onto the train. But that was ohkay, because we had two and a half hours left to this train ride.

I got up from the seat, and closed the doors of the compartment, going to settle into the cushions, and try to get some sleep.

I took a pillow, and blanket down from the storage racks, and lay my head down on the pillow, watching James -- sitting in the seat across from me -- stare out the window.

My eyes fluttered shut, and I took a deep, shaky breath. As nerve-wracking as the train ride was, I could stay in this compartment forever.

"I am so unbelievably exhausted," James muttered, finally pulling his eyes from the window, and standing up. As he stood, I sat up, and looked up at him. "It feels kind of nice, though."

I gave a nod, and he sat next to me, taking the blanket that I hadn't covered up with, and spreading it over our laps.

I didn't relax against him, though, but instead took the collar of his shirt, loosely, in my hands, and flipped it out straight. Once it was fixed, I kept my grip on it, and stared at his adam's apple rather than his face.

James moved his hands to my upper arms, and rubbed them slowly for a moment, before my forehead came forward, and rested on his chest. It was the closest thing to a hug we were daring for at the moment.

It was warm in the compartment, but there was some kind of refreshing coolness floating from the glass of the window, soothing my burning cheeks.

"All right." James murmured near my hair, after a few moments of nothing. I pulled my forehead away, and brought my feet up onto the seat.

James pushed himself up against the backrest, near the window, and sprawled out. His hand was lazily playing with my hair, and he smiled a small, tired, smile at me.

"C'mere." He muttered, taking his fingers from my hair.

I crawled up, and found my head rest nicely against his chest, the rest of me curling up alongside him.

I was almost overwhelmed by this...simple gesture. A place to rest, just catch some sleep. It was innocent. And I was so tired, and so emotionally drained, that I just wanted to sleep. Cry, maybe, but I was too tired for that.

The sense of security he offered was much more than I was able to realize then, on December 19th, 2 and a half months after I had properly began something with him. But that security, that safety, remained the same throughout...forever, really. It never wavered, but just took me some time to recognize it.

"My Dad will pick us up. We can go straight to bed once we get there. Nobody will be up, you can meet 'em in the morning." He muttered, and I could feel the words before I heard them, sense his chest vibrated, or something, as he spoke.

"Mmm Hmm. I'm so...dizzy, you know, with...this tingling warmth," James's hand was crawling along my forehead, into my hair, and then back out. He was part of the dizzying warmth. "I'm not warm, it's just my senses are on some kind of overload," I didn't know what I was talking about, but I heard him make a barely audiable sound, as he pressed his palm to his lips, and then to my cool forehead.

And I wasn't concerned, for once that day, about Christmas. There was just James, acting so completely comfortable, and pleasantly unlike himself. No...it was him, just..._being comfortable_, and I was just beginning to accept the fact that he was...changing a bit, whether he knew it, around me. Comfort. We both needed that, and right now had it.

**abc.**


	10. Watch the World Pass By

**Chapter 10  
**"Watch the World Pass By"

* * *

When I woke, all I really know, is that James wasn't...there. My head wasn't rested on his chest, and he wasn't acting as my security blanket. 

I briefly wondered how long he _had_ stayed laying with me. I found out, later, that it wasn't long before he decided the floor looked more appealing. Not even the seat he had been sitting in. The floor.

"What time is it" I muttered almost the instant my eyes were open. I was anxious to get off this blasted train.

But there was no response, because James Potter was the only other person in my compartment, and he was fast asleep.

I bit my lip, and tried to be discrete as I reached for his wrist, and checked his glowing watch. 12:35...God. We should...kinda sorta..._be there_ soon.

I sighed, and laid my head flat against the seat, rather than on the pillow. The blanket was thin, and I shivered. It was warm, though. I was shivering purely from nerves.

The source of light in the compartments had been turned off completely, and only dim lights lit the hallways. Outside of the window, though, street building lights could be seen as we sped along. We must've been nearing the city.

I watched those little, dots of orange glow merge into one, in the black of the night and compartment. My head was spinning, and I averted my eyes to James.

His glasses were askew, and his head tilted to the side resting on his arms.

I smiled, and reached a hand out to touch his silky-looking hair, but the train took a final lurch, and stopped, the lights blinking on.

I sat up, and allowed the blanket - which I realized, James must have covered me up with - to slide off of me.

"James" I murmured, rubbing my face, and nudging him with my knee. He was leaning against the wall of the compartment, sitting up, beside where my head had been laying. Just right there. Almost like he had been watching over...

"Wake up" I didn't finish my thought. "I think we're here..."

His eyes opened slowly, and he rubbed beneath them, yawning hugely. "What an ungodly time for the train to get in." He offered me a tired grin which I returned, but I was sure my eyes looked a bit worse than his own.

The next ten minutes was a hetic blur that I can't properly remember. I vaguely remember getting off the train, saying something about having to get our luggage, and James chuckling.

"There are perks to being a Potter. I've had it sent straight to the house. Let's just _go_."

I thought, for a moment, of going to find Sirius and Remus to say goodbye, but...Hell, they all had assured me that I'd probably be seeing them _everyday_ of Holidays...So I followed behind James as we walked through Platform 9 3/4, got out of the train station, and stood out in the parking lot until we spotted his father's car.

That's when everything stopped being such a fast-paced blur. People's faces were clear, and everything was slow, and bright, and I was suddenly very there. Very much there, standing next to James Potter, my hand inching towards his, because I felt as if I'd not move a bit unless he tugged me along after him.

James...sensed this, or something. He looked over at me, and almost instantly down at my hand, stretched out near his. He smiled, and pointed out his father's car.

"Come on" I went to grab his hand, but he pulled it back. "Lily, the second you realize my parents aren't out to get you is the second this will all get easier. You don't need to hold my hand, you're a big girl, and you've been through a Hell of a lot more nerve-wracking things. Picking out what to wear, for instance. Honestly, this hardly even compares to _that_" We were walking. Towards that red, shining car, even in the moonlight it was shining. "It's going to be fine. Believe me."

We were still walking. We were a foot away. How the bloody hell did this happen. It's like he talked, I followed, and I was transfixed, or something.

I took a deep, startled breath that nearly choked me because the air was so cold...When the door to the driver's side opened, and a man emerged. I had seen Mr Potter before, but it was like I was expecting...Something different this time around. Someone more intimidating, and smiling less kindly, and looking to his son with less light in his eyes...

"Dad, this is Lily."

And James smiled at me with some kind of a...surprisingly proud, or warm, or..._something_...smile.

"Hello Lily" The two didn't waste any time exchanging pleasntries with one another. James jumped head first into introducing me, and I could've hugged him. Standing off on the side lines while he talked to someone else, we both knew, I was no good at.

The tall, broad-shouldered, man extended his large hand, and I quickly took it, surprised at the warmth in it.

"Mr Potter, hi." I somehow croaked out.

"Dad, please tell her to call you Jude" James's Dad grinned a grin that was so like his son's. James looked sideways at me. "He likes to think he's intimidating. He will bask in any abundant respect you give him."

"Oh, yes, please call me Jude." He said, still shaking my hand.

"All right. Jude, may I stop shaking your hand now" He laughed, a booming laugh, and he let go of my hand. And I was actually...Well. I don't know. I didn't expect it. James suddenly became everything he _wasn't_. He was joking, and laughing, and smiling, and looking proud, and he was almost completely different, save for those few times I had seen him break down his walls.

December 19th, no 20th, seeming it was almost 1 AM...December 20th, freezing cold out, and James and his father were laughing at me.

And for some reason I felt more at home now than I had in years.

"Your head freezing yet, Dad" James asked his bald-headed father, and he rolled his eyes.

"You just wait. It'll be you some day. You'll get sick of that mess on your head. And yes, it is cold. Let's get you kids home."

Jude walked back to get into the car, and both James and I went for the door to the backseat, nearest to where we were standing.

"By the way...Lexi couldn't get to sleep, so...she'll be up awaiting your arrival."

"What about Mum" James asked, pulling the door open, and letting me climb into the warm vechile. It was by far the nicest parked in the lot. It had a classic appeal to it, and I was not quite sure what make it was, but it was certainly an expensive one.

"No, she's got to get shopping done early tomorrow so she's sleeping. Melly will probably be up with her. Let's go."

James got into the front seat, and I was glad I was sitting directly behind James, and not his father. He seemed...talkative for 1 in the morning.

"Melly's kind of a built-in babysitter. Doesn't matter what hour you call her, she'll come over. She lives right across the street." He told me, turning around to look at me. I nodded, and said nothing. I...Ohkay, I was still adjusting to the warmth of the car, and amused at the way James's glasses steamed up from the abrupt transition from cold to warm.

"And you may be relieved you don't have to meet Mum tonight, but Lexi'll probably be more overwhelming than her."

I smiled, and surpressed a shudder. I excited, and my nerves were all tingling, so if I had allowed it I probably would've been trembling like mad.

"How long of a drive is it" I asked, and James checked the clock.

"About 45 minutes. We'll be there at 1:30ish." I nodded, again, and yawned.

"You can lay down if you like, yeah Dad" Mr Potter signalled his ohkay with a nod, but did not tear his eyes away from the road. He was extremely focused, and he was just one of those people who were that focused on every aspect of their life, and it showed.

James smiled, and then turned back around to face the front.

I stared out of the window for a moment, and realized I had almost forgot what the city looked like. What it felt like to be surrounded by passing cars, and never actually alone. Even the excessive amount of streetlights were company in this big city.

They were blurring by so fast that I got rather light-headed, and did lay down. I unbuckled my seat belt, curled my legs up, and lay my head on the arm rest on the door.

From where I was laying, on this sort of angle, I could see the side of James's face, all washed in the changing lights of the city...

He looked handsome. I always knew James Potter was every kind of good-looking, but never had it been really, truly, point-blank apparent to me that he was handsome. His expression wasn't blank, but more casually pensive. He even looked like he might start smiling any second...

Mr Potter turned the radio on, just enough to hear it properly, and I reached my hand out and tapped James's shoulder.

He turned his head to look at me through the same crack that I was seeing him through.

"Hey" I said softly, and taking my hand back.

"What's up" He turned in the seat, so he could look at me better, but Mr Potter didn't notice anything different.

"Nothing. This is nice, though. I just...I'm not nervous. I'm excited" I grinned, and James did, too.

"Excited? Good...Good, darling."

Lying down in a moving car had to be one of the most pleasantly strangest feelings, ever. The ride seemed smoother, and you just seemed to flow along, not being able to see out the window where the car was headed, but somehow knowing it anyway. I shut my eyes and listened to the quiet song on the radio, not paying much attention to what James was doing. Darling was a constant thing with him, now.

He turned back into his seat, properly, but kept looking back to me, a slight tilt to his head.

The last significant thing that happened before I drifted off into my thoughts, in an almost-sleep...Was James's hand reaching back to where mine was, laying by my head, near the car's door. Mr Potter, Jude, was quite oblivious to this. It was nice. It was a little secret between the two of us.

He took my hand in his own, and did not let go. He pulled my arm gently, taking my hand up by him, and I had to adjust the way I was stretched out, but it didn't matter. James looked sideways at his father, who was staring intently at the road, and smiled a bit as he looked back to me, out of the corner of his eye, too. Holding my hand, up in the passenger seat, the radio playing it's soft tune.

_--_

I didn't really fall asleep, but it felt very much like waking up when the car stopped moving.

I heard a open and shut, and Jude say something to James, about going into the house to get Lexi. I was fighting my eyes. I didn't want to open them, it was so warm, and comfortable...

In the back seat of James's car.

My eyes flew open as I felt a hand across my forehead, and I smiled up at James.

"Are you trying to wake me up or keep me sleeping" I asked tiredly, as he continued to stroke it.

"I'm not sure. I didn't want to wake you, but..." He didn't elaborate further, but pulled his hand back, and allowed me to sit up, and get out of the car.

And I'm sure if it had been a warmer night, I would've stayed standing there, in his driveway, for hours, staring up at the white house with dark-blue-almost-black trim.

It was absolutely...I didn't even know words enough to _describe_ this...

"You coming" James asked, and I nodded wordlessly, still looking at the house.

He led me to the front door, and opened it, and I didn't have the time to look around because a shrill shout of excitement issued from a room to the left of the entrance hallway.

"JAMES." Was all I heard, and then there was a mass of blonde curls, and arms flailing around James's waist.

"Lexi, you should be _sleeeeping_" James teased, scooping his little sister up into his arms, and wrapping one arm around her, holding her on his side as he turned to look at me. "Lexi this is Lily." The little girl bit her lip dramatically, and seemed to study me for a moment. I think I felt more put on the spot with Lexi than with any other member of James's family. For in the days to come I would meet many. But Lexi had wide, blue eyes and Mrs Potter's eyes were much the same. Mothers and Sisters would be my downfall, I thought.

She then grinned. "Hi Lily. You're pretty." She was the most adorable thing ever.

"Thank you, so are you. James never told me that."

"He _never?_ Well, he never told me you were. I think we should beat him." I laughed, and raised my eyebrows in slight surprise over this mischevious little 5 year old.

"Alexandria Rose Potter, go to bed" James set her back onto the floor, and pecked her on the cheek. "We'll be here in the morning."

"Ohkay, ohkay, ohkay. Melly, let's go." Melly emerged from the room that Lexi had come from, and she wasn't what I expected. I expected a sort of...Alice. You know. Conservative outfit, hair tied back into a bun, slightly greying.

But she was young. Early 20's, maybe. She had straight brown hair, with all sorts of auburn highlights, and it was long. She was slim, and rather tall. She offered James I a grin before heading up the stairs with the little girl. James smiled at their retreating backs, and I chewed my lip, wondering just how long Melly had lived across the street.

"All right. This is the living room" He pointed to the room that Lexi Melly had been in. "That's the den" He pointed through the doorway to the right of the entrance hall. "You go straight through this hallway, and that door there goes into the kitchen. And this is upstairs. My dad's study is just off the living room, and...I'll show you to your room" We said goodnight to Mr Potter, and I quickly looked around. The house was rather open. The doorways to the den and living room were rather arched and you could see in them from where you stood in the entrance hall. There were wood floors in most rooms, but rich-coloured, soft mats seemed to be lay almost everywhere. The whole house had a rather...Victorian look to it. Very detailed, very dark, deep colours. Absolutely gorgeous wooden furniture, and just a very simple, tasteful, classy look to the whole house, which I assume would be hard to acheive with a house this huge.

The upstairs was dark, but I could see that it was huge as well. "This is my floor. Guest bedrooms, too. My parents and Lexi are the floor we bypassed" James had his own floor. His own floor out of the whole damn house, where _his_ friends could stay, and use the guestrooms, and he just didn't seem like he came from a family so powerful and...rich.

In a way he seemed it, I suppose. He was very proper, and polite - to those he needed to be that way to. He had a distingushed look to him. A slight cleft in his chin, and those broad-shoulders of his. His voice was not too deep, but deep enough. It was smooth, and his British accent was more pronounced, I found, than Sirius's. He held an air of superiority, and intelligence, but not so overwhelming that you'd like to hit him. There were times, I could tell, when he was talking to a person of higher authority, or somebody he _knew_ he had to offer the utmost respect to - He acted pleasantly ignorant to the subject of which they were talking on about. If he had heard the story a hundred and fifty times from that many different people, he'd nod and put on a look of anticipation waiting for them to get to the dramatic finale of their story.

He was rather good at acting, he once told me he did it far too often, when I pointed the fact out.

It was a part of being polite, he told me - I was acting the ignorant one that day, for he'd rant on about things and end up repeating them.

The paragraph he spat out, exasperatedly at me was there forever. It was James Potter, complete. It was him, everything he'd always been. I remember it so clearly.

"You talk to people you don't want to talk to, do things for people you don't want to do, smile when you want to frown, laugh when you want to cry, run when you want to crawl. This name, this family, this _world_ is _all_ one big act, and I was born into it. So, Lily Evans, you've no need to remind me how good at acting I am. I do it far too often."

I remembered just staring at him with an understanding, soft gaze. Not saying anything, because James Potter sometimes preferred when you did not.

I looked to James, and then around what I could see of the corridor.

The hallway wasn't that long, but quite wide. The wood floor up here was of a lighter colour, and a long mat rolled through the middle of it. It just made it seem more home-y. Mats, and vases of flowers, and no statues or stone walls. It was...comfortable, even if it was huge.

To the left side of the hall there were 2 guest rooms, one bathroom, and a lounge, with a pool table, and what not. To the right there was James's room, 1 guestroom, and a sitting area set up by the large, bay window at the end of the hall. An overstuffed armchair, a coffee table scattered with magazines, cigars, and an ash tray. The view was rather incredible.

I didn't know what rooms were on the 3rd floor, and I wondered just how good the view from the windows up _there_ was. From this window you could see over the neighbours roof, and most others. It was as if you could sit here, at this huge, bay window and watch the world pass you by.

I don't recall how I got to the end of the hallway, but I did. It was as if that window, that little nook so different from the rest of the house, was...alluring. There was some picturesque feel to it, to how you could see the moon, the stars, the navy sky so well by just standing there, looking out of it.

It was a bright night. The moon was on it's way to being full. There wasn't a wisp of a cloud in the sky, but there was grey smoke floating from chimney's all over. There was no wind, there was absolutely nothing to disturb this night. It was clear, and vivid, and maybe one of the favourite nights of my life.

But it was so very cold that night. Standing by Jude's car at the train station startled me out of my hazy state. It almost robbed you of your breath, how cold the air was. And when you did breathe it was a cloud of frosty white vapour.

I was realizing, or remembering all of this as I sat in one of the armchairs, staring - nay, _gaping_ - out of the window, with James slowly progessing down the hall to stand behind the chair.

"Your room is the one across the hall from my own. Directly across from it. All your stuff's in it. I'm going to hit the sack. It's been a long day."

I didn't say anything, until I heard him turn and head to his room.

"James"

"Yeah, Lil" I turned around in the chair to look at him. One hand in his front pocket, and the other rubbing the back of his neck.

"Why's this here? The chairs, and coffee table"

He looked at me, and I watched his jaw tighten before he smiled. I really didn't think he was going to answer me. Sometimes I forgot who he was, and sometimes I expected him to fully let me in, and tell me every single thing I want to know. But he was still James.

"We...liked it. Looking out over the houses. Remus isn't allowed to smoke in any of the rooms, so he chose the hallway. And that window's kinda..._the_ window. Some nights you can see"

"The world pass by." I finished for him, in a quiet tone, turning back to look out of the window.

"Yeah, Lil. I..." His unfinished statement hung heavy in the air for a few moments. I was desperate to hear him say it. I didn't know what he was going to say, but it was like I did. I wanted him to offer a declaration of surprise at how I finished his sentence, and how it has happened before. And how it must've meant something. The two of us. Taking words from the others mouth. He didn't say it, but he would have. _He would have._

"Goodnight, Lil."

Lil. Where did Lil come from? Lily was all that usually fell from his mouth. Hell, at one point, all I heard was Evans. Lil.

My full name was not Lillian, despite what most people thought. It was Lily. Lily Rhoslyn Evans. Nobody gave me nicknames. I was just Lily, you know. I was just one of those people. My name could easily be shortened to a nickname, but nobody ever bothered. They preferred to throw my last name out there. Until the Marauders. Lil. Lils. Darling...

I stood up after a few minutes, perhaps 10 - my breathing betraying me and becoming quick as I thought of James Potter and how my mind sometimes spun - and moved nearer to the window, my face hovering quite close to the clear glass.

My breath quickly fogged it up, and I could feel the cold from the glass floating off to meet my warm cheeks. I pressed a fingertip to the window, and it was a soothing sort of cool. I suddenly felt very awake opposed to a minute earlier when I could've slept in that armchair the whole night.

I sighed, and turned to go to the room James had pointed out to be mine while I was there.

That window hung like a canvas between our two rooms.

I didn't know what I wanted right now, at the moment, but I need to say it, bid it, repeat it to him. Goodnight James. It's not that hard, Lily...

"James, are you awake" It may have been 15 minutes since he departed for his bedroom, and it was almost 2 in the morning.

I stood just on the other side of the bedroom door waiting for a response from somewhere in the dark.

"Mmm. I am. Come in, shut the door."

The bedroom was dark - the only bit of light coming in _was_ from the open door. I shut it, despite, and after a moment my eyes adjusted to the dark and I could faintly make out a form in the room, that I assumed was his bed.

"Can I ask you a question" I asked, coming to stand near it.

"Of course"

"Are you awake because I woke you, or are you awake because you couldn't get to sleep"

I couldn't see him smile, but I could hear it in his voice when he next spoke. The slight amusement in his voice...Yeah, he was smiling and in my mind it looked nice.

"I am awake...Because I couldn't get to sleep. Why are you awake"

"Same reason."

"Mmm, Lil" I swallowed and attempted to focus my eyes in the direction his voice was coming from.

"Yeah"

"Do you feel, suddenly, very awake" I laughed briefly, and offered him a nod, though he was blind to it.

"It's rather strange, but yes."

"Yeah, me too." I could hear him shifting, and I was searching for the tiniest bit of light, somewhere in the room. The crack beneath the door, the cracks in the window not covered by the blind...  
Being completely engulfed by pitch-black, darkness makes me...panic, or something.

"It's cold in here." I muttered, folding my arms around myself, and fumbling my way towards the window.

I pulled the blind up a bit, letting the moon spill it's light into the room, and then looked over to James's bed.

"I know, it's freezing." I could see him now pulling the covers down on the side of the bed he wasn't laying on. He sprawled across the bed, and reached for his wand on his stand. Laying back on his side, he lit the wand, and told me to close the blind. It made the room feel colder, he said, and for some reason he was right.

"Come lay down, Lil." He said through a yawn, laying his wand on the bed, between both the pillows, and offering a bit of a warm glow.

I didn't say anything. I wasn't really hesistant about laying next to him. Just curious, was all. Curious why his offer didn't make me feel a bit more uncomfortable, or aware of _how_ comfortable the two of us were becomng. I looked him over, and smiled, letting my arms fall from around me.

He had on a long-sleeved grey shirt, and from what I could tell...a pair of plaid pajama pants. And socks. James always slept in socks. He didn't like the feel of his feet directly against the bed sheet, especially when it was cold out.

I, however, was still in my jeans and sweater, and was without socks, as I had pulled them off before coming over to his room.

The sound of the comforter and sheets rustling as I bunched them into my hand, and pulled them up until I was under them...Was the single, nicest sound I had heard that night. It just sounded real, and inviting against the cold of the room, and James's warm, warm eyes never leaving me as I climbed in helped, too.

"Never thought I'd get you in bed so soon." He grinned at me as I pulled the covers up to my chest, and lay my arms overtop of them.

I smiled at him, and scrunched my nose up for a second. "Typical _boy_."

"Ah, but in a day I'll be a man."

I rolled my eyes, and we shared a quiet laugh before drifting off into silence.

I heard James inhale deeply, and release it slowly. He was laying on his back, his arms folded behind his head.

"If I asked you right now, in this moment, what do you want for the rest of your life...Would you be able to answer? Right now, at 2 in the morning, what is the one, single thing you could live the rest of your life with feeling, or doing."

I wasn't surprised at his question. Late night, early morning confessions and conversations is just...normal. It became normal for me, at least. Us. We talked at night, we spilled things at night, we became who we were at night.

"I want...to wake up with someone next to me...for the rest of my life. Lay with somebody at night, talking 'til we fall asleep. Like this, you know. Not be alone. That's all I want right now."

"To not be alone" James repeated, looking at the ceiling and not to me. "I don't think I've ever thought of it. Not being alone. I guess when your our age you don't really"

"I know. Most people don't consider it" I interrupted him, and James laughed lightly, but let me finish. "I'm almost afraid of it, though. Plus" I turned over onto my side, looking at him while he looked away. "Doesn't this feel nice? Unbelievably comforting"

James didn't say anything, but slowly turned his face to look at me, taking his arms from under his head, and sprawling one head beside him, the other's hand was tracing over his right cheek.

"Yes." Was all he said, in a soft murmur that made his lips move in a way that was unintentionally _hot_.

And he knew that I knew that he had considered what I was asking him. Whether _laying here together, laying here with me_ felt nice, and unbelievably comforting. I didn't mean it like that. I swear it a hundred times over that I just meant...Not being alone on a night so bright...felt nice.

"Well, it's all I want for the rest of my life." I whispered, looking away from him, and chewing a bit of my lip.

"To be in my bed for the rest of your life" He broke the moment of tender sincereity with that. Nice.

I looked back to him and shook my head slowly, fighting a smile. "Shut up." And he grinned.

"Is that your foot" We had been laying just preoccupying our thoughts with things, and just listening to the other breathe.

"Where" I asked, a bit surprised at how completely random that was.

"Against my leg without a sock on it. Lily, that's disgusting."

"I didn't realize...James, it's not even touching your _bare_ leg." I scoffed, after lifting the covers up and looking under.

"It's still...Lily" I moved my foot up his pant leg, and he almost jumped a mile.

He struggled to get away from me, and I distracted him with tickling his neck furiously.

Eventually, after making enough noise to wake anybody on the floor up - oh wait, this was his own floor - he grabbed my wrists and held them in one of his hands, and was grinning wickedly at the way I couldn't stop giggling.

"Now, Lily Evans, remove your foot from up my pant leg, and I'll let you go." I did so, letting my toes drag along his skin the whole way, and he released my wrists.

I wanted him to shudder in a revolted sort of way as I did this, but he just looked at me, getting himself comfortable on his side. "Your feet are freezing."

"So are my hands." I told him, raising both of them and touching them to his warm cheeks. He looked down at my hands on his face, and it almost looked like his eyes were shut, the way his lids were.

But he looked back to me, and tugged me nearer to him. I curled my legs up and watched how he was with me. Putting a hand in my hair and stroking it for a moment...

He wasn't careful with me. He didn't treat me like I was delicate, and fragile, and couldn't handle things. The way he looked at me when these...soft, warm moments came about...was with a great deal of respect, and intrigue. He seemed to want to make things better, at times, but he let me be...independent - always. My own.

"James, have you ever..." I sighed, not wanting to ask this question for I knew he would find it prying. But...Curiousity got the better of me, as it does the majority of _humans_. It's in our nature. It's what we do. We just always need to know, or _have_ more. "Have you ever been in love"

I had rolled away from him when I spoke, and took my turn in staring at the ceiling.

He was quiet for a moment, and sighed as well, turning over onto his back again, and staring at the ceiling along with me.

"I had this girlfriend last year. Jo. Jocelyn was her full name, and most people just called her 'Joce'. I called her Jo, because I liked it. And she eventually liked it"

I didn't remember this girlfriend. Most of the ones he had were in Gryffindor and he hadn't had that many that I'd lose track or not recall them being with him in the common room.

"November 'til the middle of June. We were together that long. About 7 months, I guess. She had...straight, long hair, with these...side-swept bangs...Freckles along her cheeks and nose. Not a lot, just enough. Her hair was a light, strawberry blonde...Pretty blue eyes. She was tiny" He laughed his "heh" of a laugh for a moment, and smiled slightly at this memory he was creating for the both of us. "5'2, maybe. Not a hundred pounds, I don't think. I don't know. She was just...My opposite. I'm all...broad-shouldered, and tall, and dark hair. And she had this laugh that was unbelievably light. You'd think she didn't have a problem in the world" I was briefly reminded of Remus, and how that laugh of his contrasted his personality. "She was a Ravenclaw..."

"Was" I interrupted momentarily, turning over onto my side and watching him as he talked.

"Yep, she graduated last year."

Oh, that would explain me not knowing who she was.

"She...was older than you"

"By about a year, yeah. I don't know how we got together, but...I started acting older around her, just to impress her. I was right proud and cocky when she thought I was a 7th year _last _year. She noticed me. My life was lived, y'know. I just had to let the rest fall into place. And it did. It...completely did. We were happy, and together, and she was pretty. Yeah, she was pretty. God, I told her I loved her. We were just...sitting outside in...February. Valentine's Day coming up. It just worked for the quiet moment, you know? We both said it almost at the same time. She kinda breathed it at me, and I...I almost choked, and panicked, but I said it back. _I said it back._ And that's...the closest I came to being in love."

He didn't look anywhere but at the one spot on the ceiling as he spoke, and I wasn't sure whether or not he blinked - the dim glow from the wand made it hard to tell - but he was serious, and soft-spoken.

"What do you mean...the closest you came? If you told her you loved her..." Shut up, Lily. Stop asking questions.

"I thought I meant it, but when you're 16, 17...you'll try to convince yourself of anything. We might have been in love, but I doubt it. It may have been 'in love' for that age. You know, the definitions and feelings change as you get older. I was in like, or infatuated, or blinded, or a combination of the three. She flew high at me when...it was some night at the first of June...I decided, I told her, that I was not even close to being prepared for love. _In love_. She didn't like it, me telling her I cared about her, but was only 17 and not in love. Certainly not in love, I said. She was angry for a few days, and didn't speak to me. Jo cried the next time we spoke. She said I was right, it was true, we just wanted to be in love. And it had been nice while it lasted. lily, she meant...A lot to me. And she forced me to grow up. My head deflated a bit. I...May not have loved her, but she was imporant to me" He looked to me for a moment, but looked back to the ceiling as he finished. "She owls sometimes. I only reply now and then. It's hard, I guess. I'm over her, and don't know how to carry on a friendship after the emotional bloody wreck we put ourselves through. And...I'm done. Heh." There was a smile on his face as he finished.

I didn't pull my eyes away from him. I had never seen him like this before. I had never heard anything of this sort fall from his mouth, and this was some sort of revelation for me. Some sort of realization hit me that James Potter was letting me in so close that I could almost see what he was thinking. I could almost touch him. He wasn't too far out of my reach. It was shocking, and dizzying, and I was not sure how he would react to the huge smile on my face, and the nervous, or relieved laughter issuing from my mouth. James hadn't been in love, but by the way he spoke...It was like he was in love with love. He wanted it. So much. And this was the first time that I discovered a boy like him could want such a thing. A boy like him...Laying here with a girl like me...Not being in love with anyone.

"That felt good." He said quietly, as if to nobody in particular, after a moment of me just gazing at him, trying to figure out...his eyes, his thoughts, his glasses, his...just him, in that time.

It did feel good. I felt more alive right now than I had for weeks.

_--_

It seemed I didn't know what 5:00 looked like. I don't wake up that early on purpose. And I don't stay up that late - given one exception. But people wake up sometimes, glance the clock, look out the window, and think; _Oh, hmph. So this is what 5:00 looks like?_ And never forget it.

But me...I think I knew what 5:00 looked like in June. A dim, light washing over the sky - a weak morning making itself known. The sun rose near 5 o'clock in June, and it was so spectacular, you don't want to think it any other way.

That morning, though, December 20th, was nothing like June's 5 o'clock. It was almost quarter after when I woke up, slowly realizing where I was and with whom. And it was dark. The sky was black, and offered no hint of a morning not far off. It was confusing, almost. Some people were getting up at 5:30 to be off to work. This dark, listless sky would be the beginning of their day. The beginning of anybody's day, really. The sun didn't rise in December until almost 8, and it was so slow at doing so that you didn't notice anything remotely beautiful about it.

I stretched myself into awareness, and rolled over onto my left side - I had been laying on my right side, and was facing the direction of the bedroom door.

And there James was. I really did fall asleep next to him a half pass two. 2 and a half hours ago...It seemed like all night. I was awake and my eyelids weren't hurting like they had been before.

Everything was quiet. I could hardly hear his breathing, just saw his chest rise and fall slowly. There was some tantilizing comfort in the wee hours of the morning. For it hardly seemed like morning, but it felt like it couldn't be anything but. I held my breath for a moment, watching his eyelids flutter a bit, and I wondered whether or not he was actually sleeping.

"Avid dreamer are you, James" I muttered in the direction of him, as his lids fluttered about some more. And I heard that only happened if you were either awake, or dreaming.

"No, just waiting to see whether or not you're going to go back to sleep." He muttered back to me in the same tone, his eyes still shut, but a little smirk on his lips. I grinned, and my chapped lips hurt as I did so.

I dug around in my jean pocket looking for my lip chap, while simply observing him.

His eyes remained closed, and he took deeper, louder breaths, almost sounding like sighs. He had fell asleep laying on his side, facing me, and his arm was sprawled out over the space between the two of us, almost touching my waist. His glasses were askew, and his fringe was sticking up almost straight.

Those hazel-green's of his pulled open just as I took the cover from my lip chap and smoothed it over my lips, rubbing them together and soothing the raw spots on them instantly. And his gaze was on my lips as I did so.

"I forgot what 5 o'clock looked like" I said softly, scooting closer so I could see out of the window across the room, from his point of view.

"Me too." I thought perhaps he might find it odd that I would even _know_ what it looked like. But God, June nights at the end of the school year could lead to all sorts of things.

"Last June...Me, Jada, and a couple of other girls just didn't bother going to sleep, the last night we were at Hogwarts for 6th year. We stayed up til 5 AM, and watched the sun rise."

"That's the only time you've seen it rise at 5? Ah, I've seen it rise both ways. Going to bed, and getting up. I've never really remembered it. All I know is that it's light, and nice, and...for a second everything's quite breath-taking."

"Mmm. Boys don't appreciate sunrises unless they're with pretty girls and they automatically compare the girls' beauty to the sunrises'."

James looked away from the window, and at me. He smiled and held my stare for a moment. "Well, there's no sunrise to compare you to, so are you still expecting something"

I laughed lightly and shook my head. "No."

Halfway through smiling broader he stopped and furrowed his brow at me. I could see his forehead, because of that stuck-straight-up fringe and I could see the couple of shallow creases on it. I guess he expected a joking reply of yes, so perhaps he could give something.

"Too bad" He breathed out, in a deep voice. "You're as lovely as the sunrise in June." The corniest damn thing I'd probably ever hear him say but I shook my head in spite of myself and smiled 'til my cheeks hurt.

"You ass" I laughed at the look of amused-shock on his face. "I just..." I trailed off, at a loss for words.

He shifted, moving his head off of the pillow so that it was on an angle, near my shoulder. Some of my shoulder was exposed, as my sweater had pulled to one side as I turned over, and when James let out a sigh it was just him breathing a soft, warm breath onto my skin.

I allowed my eyes to flutter shut and listen to his mesmerizing voice say his mesmerizing things.

"I'm tired" Was all he said for a moment, and I glanced him shutting his eyes, his face still close to my shoulder. "And have I told you, yet, that I'm glad you came home with me? If not, I am. I'm glad, Lily" He sighed again and his breath hit my shoulder, and I took a soft intake of breath, holding it 'til he had finished. "There've been times in the past couple of weeks that I wish I had more profound things to say to you, but I've got absolutely nothing. You're one of my best friends and...I like how you finish my sentences."

I smiled and opened my eyes turning to look at him as he pulled his head back up to the pillow. "You're a charming bastard, I do know that" He offered a hazy-eyed smile at this.

"I should go to my own room. Do your parents wake up early" He nodded, his features tired, but a small smile still on his lips.

He had been smiling a lot more lately. It was nice.

"You'll meet Mum in a few hours, I guess" James yawned, and ran a hand over his face. "She's overwhelming, Lily." I nodded, fully prepared to take whatever on right then. I couldn't imagine her being unpleasant.

"I'll see you. Goodnight." I scrunched my nose up and laughed, as I didn't know what to say before departing the bedroom.

"Good morning." James replied, his arms folded behind his head, and he yawned again.

I climbed out of my warm place in the bed next to James, and crossed the dark room - noting with a bit of amusement that the wand was still lay lit on the pillows - looking over at him again before opening the door, crossing the hall and entering the bedroom that was mine for my stay.

I didn't even look around, or turn a light on as I went into the large room, and threw myself down onto the bed.

My stomach felt like it was flying as I considered meeting Mrs Potter - and perhaps this Melly girl, more formally - in a few hours. I grinned to myself, and was convinced it would be fine.

_"They'll adore you". _And I believed him. James had that way about him. He didn't lie, and he told the truth well. They'll adore you, they'll adore me, Mrs Potter, nice to meet you...

They'll adore you.

At 8:30 that morning, I found that those three words, that simple, lovely statement...

Was a lie like no other.

**abc.**


	11. Coming Apart

**Chapter 11  
**"Coming Apart"

**-**

When a Mother loves her daughter, it is a bond that cannot be broken. It's unconditional. It's incredible, and nobody is closer than Mother daughter.

When a Father loves his Daughter, he's overly protective and grounds her too often, because he doesn't want his little girl to grow up. He's got a strange way of showing it, but the daughter knows it's out of love.

When a Father loves his son it's like having a best friend and a worst enemy. He's there for you, and will understand the teenage years better than your Mother. But when you make mistakes he'll come down on you hard, because he knows you should know better.

Ah, but when a Mother loves her son, it's different from all the others. When a mother loves her son, she may do absolutely anything to ensure his happiness. She will hate every girl that steps into his life - except for the one she hand-picks for him , she will love his friends, if only to keep an eye on what goes on. And she will be the sweetest person in the world when he's around, but hate you so much when he turns his back. All to make sure that her son gets the best of everything. Gets what she thinks is best. Sometimes a Mother is blinded by her love for her little boy.

There are, of course, exceptions to every statement above. I, personally, don't have that bond with my Mother. I do have the over protective Father. Yeah, there are exceptions. But Mrs Potter was no exception to the Mother and son statement.

When I woke that morning, it was grey. Just, point blank - Grey. A dark grey. It was as if the sun had started to rise, but was clouded instantly by thick fog, and typical London weather. It had rained that morning. Christmas was days away. And it had rained any thin blanket of snow away.

I sighed and blinked myself awake. The room was gorgeous. Big, nicer than my own room at home, richly-coloured, mahogany furnishings, and the bathroom off of it was just as nice. Sparkling white, and beautiful. I grinned, and ran a hand back through my hair.

I was still in my clothes from the day before, and looked quite disheveled. Some mascara had flaked off my lashes down below my eyes, and I wiped it away, before pulling my sweater off, and picking out a pajama top. ...All of my clothes had been packed away in the dresser, and I hoped to God they had House Elves or something. I honestly hoped it hadn't been Mrs Potter going through my suitcase, and putting my _knickers_ away. How bloody embarrassing.

The carpet was a deep, wine colour and I felt...almost out of place in this room...That just screamed everything that the Potter's were. Nicely defined, stature, flawless - on the outside.

I was convinced, at this time, that nothing could go wrong, and the morning would be lovely, and I even felt comfortable in my pajamas, considering going around the house in them. I had doubted it earlier, whether or not it would be acceptable. I didn't know what to say, think, eat, or wear. I didn't want to _ask_ James for pointers on how to win his family over, but perhaps a bit of a warning - more than "my Mum's overwhelming" - would've been nice.

I splashed water onto my face, quickly brushed my teeth, and combed my hair with my fingers as I pulled the door to the bedroom open.

It was almost 8:30, and I didn't know if anybody was up or not, because this floor was so bloody quiet. The floor below it was his parents' Lexi's, and the floor _above_...Well, I didn't know yet. 3 upstairs floors, and counting the main level - _4 floors_. Who needs a house that big?

My socks padded quietly on the wood floor, until I stepped onto the mat and not even my footsteps could be heard. The door to James's bedroom was ajar, and I peered inside before continuing downstairs. I didn't really see anything but his blind was pulled, and no light - not even the grey light of this morning - was entering in it.

I hoped he was up.

I took my time making my way down the two sets of stairs, until coming into the entrance hallway. I paid close attention to every little detail, making mental notes of where certain rooms were, and stuff like that. Everytime I walked by a mirror, or something I could sort of see my reflection in, I ran my hands through my hair like crazy.

Taking a deep breath, I poked my head into the den and quickly looked around, then crossed the hall to the left side and looked into the living room. And there was the door to the kitchen. A swinging door, painted white. I just had to walk straight, past the staircase, and just...push the door open.

For a moment they didn't notice me. All I did was...watch them. Decked out in what could've been their Sunday's finest. Lexi was wearing a dress for Christ's sake. Mr Potter was reading the paper, he had a tie on with his white button-down. That...Melly girl, the nextdoor neighbour...She was there. Her hair was in two braids, and she was wearing a turtleneck, sitting at the table with Mr Mrs Potter, sipping from a dainty looking teacup.

Smiling broadly, I cleared my throat, and stepped forward into the kitchen. The room wasn't huge, but well-sized. The dining room was off to the right of it, just through a large archway. The kitchen seemed to contrast with the rest of the house. Almost blinding white, whereas the rest of the house was deep, and old-fashioned.

The linoleum flooring was white, with green accents. The cupboards were white as well, and the knobs on the doors were green. A pale, almost sea-foam green. The table was made of a light-coloured wood, the legs painted white, and there was a bowl of fruit in the middle of the table.

As I cleared my throat I caught Mr Potter's attention and he offered me a cheeky grin.

"Lily, ah, good morning. Dani," Mrs Potter had just gone into the dining room, and Jude called her back over. "Dani, this is Lily. The one of whom you insisted James bring home."

The woman who I had heard so much about. The woman who James said bought me Christmas presents, and wanted him to bring me home. The woman who was like a Mother to Sirius and Remus. That woman who had that 5 year old daughter. That woman who James adored so much. Mrs Danielle Potter...

She didn't smile at me. She came and stood next to the table, laying a hand on her husband's shoulder. She cast a glance in Melly's direction, and then looked back to me. Her eyes were narrowed in some sort of...curious..._oh, so this is her_...way. She looked as if she was trying to smile, trying to make the corners of her mouth turn up, but halfway there her lips would fall back to a straight line, and she'd purse her lips, looking puzzled, or thoughtful.

I saw her eyes scan up and down my pajama-clad form, and I shut my eyes briefly, realizing what a prat I must've looked like in this sparkling clean kitchen, with them in their neat, nice clothes.

"I, um," My voice caught in my throat, and I was forced to clear it again, bringing the attention of Melly and Lexi to me. Tugging on the sleeve of my candy-cane pajama top, I went to speak again. "Just wanted to come...meet you, Mrs Potter. Before, uh, I had a shower," Honestly, _all of the obsessing_ yesterday about what to wear, and I play the fool and show up at breakfast - James clearly missing - in my freaking pajamas.

I stood there smiling like an idiot hoping Mrs Potter would say something. Slowly, she smiled and nodded. "Nice to meet you, Lily," She didn't step closer, and offer me a hand to shake, nor did she tell me to call her Dani, or Danielle, or something of the sort. She just stood with her hand on her husband's shoulder, clutching it rather tightly.

"You've met Melly, and Lexi, then?"

I nodded, and to prove I really was a nice girl, I smiled at Melly. "Well, don't let us keep you from your shower then. Breakfast will still be on the table when you're done..."

_...drowning myself_, I thought bitterly as I left the kitchen.

My shower didn't take long at all, and neither did picking out an outfit - suddenly the need to appear perfect had vanished - and it was only about 10 after 9 when I stood in the full-length mirror, staring at my appearance.

I looked...nice, I thought. I didn't bother with mascara - just curled the lashes. My cheeks didn't need blush, as they seemed stained red at the moment. I smoothed on a subtle-pink, lipgloss, and my hair fell down my back in pretty waves, and it smelled good. I wore a green v-neck sweater - with a white camisole underneath, because we all know how vixen-like I turned the last time I wore a v-neck around James - and a pair of dark blue jeans, they just seemed classier than faded ones. And I stood there with a solemn, sticken look on my face. Like I couldn't bring myself to smile now. I was in shock, almost. They'll adore you, he said. My Mum's not like that, he said. They won't care what you're wearing, James said.

This was supposed to be good. From start to finish Christmas was supposed to be happy, because this was a fresh start. A family I didn't know, but so badly wanted to. I wanted to make good impression. I _cared_ to make a good impression. Mr Potter seemed nice enough as did Lexi. But Mrs Potter was hostile towards me, and I was only in the kitchen for 5 minutes at the most. It had something to do with that pretty brunette, Melly. It had to have.

December always was horrible. Always, always, always. My parents sent me money. I sent them cards. My sister and I didn't buy one another anything. We hardly acknowledged the other exsisted. My grandparents usually sent me money, along with a card just to make it...more personal. I hadn't been home in years, my Dad liked his potential-new-family better, and I leave the bloody castle for the first Christmas in awhile, and it rains. And I wear pajamas, and _the way she looked at me just screamed you're not good enough, you're not good enough, you're not good enough._ But the thing that got me was that _James said, and repeated_ that she was the one who insisted I come. She knew who I was, my family situation, apparently, and...I hoped she knew that James me were just friends, and I had no intentions of stealing the spotlight from little-Miss-Melly.

At 9:30, me sitting in the armchair at the little nook at the end of the hallway, when James emerged from his room - I was a bit more than a little pissed off at him.

He didn't realize I was there, at first. But halfway down the hall, he stopped, turned back, and looked to the armchair I was sitting in.

"Oh, good, you're up," He grinned at me, as he came back towards me, and stood next to the chair. "Didn't want to go down to breakfast alone?"

I swallowed, and folded my arms over my chest, staring out of the wide window. "No, but I did anyway."

I looked up at him from out of the corner of my eye, and saw him frown down at me.

"What d'you mean?"

Instead of answering him, I just chewed my lip, and sunk lower in the chair, curling my legs up in it, as well.

"How old's Melly?" I asked quickly.

"Uh, 20. Turned it in August. Why?" James sat down in the armchair that was to the left of the one I was sitting in, and at the same time we both plopped our feet onto the glass-top coffee table.

"No reason." And I would've wanted to hit me, if I were him.

I didn't want to go whining on about his Mum seeming hostile and...cold towards me, because I had only been around her for a minute. And I didn't want to go throwing questions about Melly left and right because he might get the wrong idea. The sad thing was, I didn't even know what the wrong idea _was_. For him to think I wouldn't like Melly, because she had known him for his whole life, and spent every summer with him and the Marauders, and I wanted that? Or for him to think that I wouldn't like Melly, because Mrs Potter wouldn't have room to like me. I just...I didn't want December to suck. I really, really, so badly...wanted to let this month go out as good as it began. I wanted Christmas to be incredible, and I wanted to _smile. _I wanted so desperately to smile at Christmas morning.

"What's going on, Lily?" He asked after a moment, as we both stared out the window into the grey morning that mere hours ago was black. And mere hours ago we were waking up to 5:00 together.

"_Nothing_. I just...I went down there, to breakfast, in my bloody pajamas. Yeah, after all the fretting over what to wear. I don't know. I just felt too comfortable, I guess. And your Dad smiled at me, and called your Mum over to meet me, and she just..." I trailed off, pausing for a moment. "And then that...that Melly girl was there, too. And Lexi was eating toast, and she had a dress on. At 8:30 in the morning, for Christ's sake. I feel so stupid," I bemoaned, putting my face into my hands, and refusing to look at James, because I knew he was looking at me.

"Did somebody...say something?" James asked, carefully, and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He was bent over, his elbows propped up on his knees, and his fingertips placed together, resting against his upper lip. He looked...pensive, or worried, or something.

"No, but...Don't yell at me for this, but," I took a breath, and shook my head in spite of myself. "Your Mum just looked...disappointed when she saw me."

James said nothing for a moment, just stayed in the position he was in. Looking calm, and thoughtful...

The corners of his lips quirked into some sort of...sad smile. A smile of pity, a smile that denied me any grace, a smile that showed just what sorry case I came off as.

"Lily, honestly. How long were you down there for?"

I shrugged, and most likely looked as if I was pouting, as I drew my knees up to my chest, and tried to bury my face away in the crevices of the chair. "I dunno, 5 minutes..."

I sighed shakily as he stood, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his plaid pajama pants. He wore a navy sweatshirt with them, but...his pajamas would be acceptable. Because A) he was their son, and B) they didn't have candy canes on them.

"C'mon, Lil. Give it a chance. I know...Christmas, point blank, has been terrible for you before. I've...decided to try my hardest to make this Christmas worthy to you. So, just...don't be so paranoid. Because you are, you realize. You're paranoid as Hell when it comes to what people think of you. Come with me, now please." He extended one of his hands to me, the other still tucked in his pocket, and...I didn't want to take it, because I'd rather just...give him the cold shoulder until he realized I wasn't insane, and trying to make the worst out of everything. But had I not taken it, I would've just stayed sitting there, curled up in that armchair for the rest of the break.

His hands were cool to touch, and his knuckles were awfully battered up from playing Qudditch in the cold weather. A couple held dry patches, and had cracked, leaving a covering of dry blood. My fingertips brushed one of his sore knuckles, as we reached the second set of stairs, and he took a sharp breath, and stopped walking.

He pulled his hand away from mine, and drew in air through his teeth, making a quiet hissing sound.

"You've got bloody sharp nails, Evans." He muttered, blowing on the skin I had scratched that was sure to be stinging as blood found it's way out of the mess of dry and cracked skin.

And he called me Evans. I stared at him, as he stared at his hand, looking much too intriguied with that fucking scratch. His lips formed an 'o' as he blew cool air onto his knuckle.

"Wipe the blood off of it, first, _Potter_." I said at him with clenched teeth, and my lips barely moving.

He did so, despite my tone of voice, and peered down at his dry skin. "Do you know any charms for this?" He asked, gesturing at his roughened knuckles.

"I do, yeah." I nodded, turned on my heel, and walked away. James watching me all the while.

**-**

For the second time that morning I arrived in the entrance hallway, mere feet away from the kitchen door - yet again. I stared at it, and while doing so I heard James's footsteps on the long set of stairs. He had waited a moment before following after me.

So instead of entering the kitchen and facing - what I thought at that point - would be the end of James and me - our friendship , I leaned against the wall and waited for him to reach the end of the stairs, and spot me standing there.

"You change pages quicker than I can keep up with," I recalled saying almost the same thing to _him_ one day. "That was funny, though. How you storm off, but then wait for me anyway, because you're too...what are you? Too scared to go to breakfast without me? You can't _be_ like this all break. This can't go on. You're going to have to _give it a chance._" I pursed my lips, and pushed myself off of the wall, following him into the kitchen.

15 minutes later, I was standing, leaning against the counter, with my plate of toast in one hand, and a piece of toast in the other. James sat at the table, along with Mrs Potter, Lexi, and Melly. Mr Potter had excused himself not long after we entered the kitchen.

There were only 4 chairs at the small, round, kitchen table. Which made sense, I suppose. They only used the kitchen table for breakfast, and otherwise ate in the dining room. So, when James offered me the last chair, and Mrs Potter sent him, then me, a glance - I declined, and just awkwardly stood there, nibbling on the cold toast.

It was some kind of metaphor, maybe. Not really, but for that moment, it was to me. James was defensive of his family, and it was surprising, because for most of the time we had been friends...He had been defensive of _me_. In whatever it was. He spoke to me words of pity at times, but when he did so - before today - it was somehow with respect. It was in a defensive, comforting way. And when I stood next to him, feeling awkward and lesser than he - his arm would come around me, and pull me close. Defending me to the person he was speaking to. Reassuring me that he was there.

But now he wasn't standing next to me. He wasn't reassuring me, and making me feel less awkward. I was standing to the side, not involved in their conversation, and the toast was cold. Soggy, almost...

"Lily, would you like a cup of tea?" Mrs Potter asked, in a voice all sugar-sweet, and it quickly brought me from my reverie. A bit too quickly, in fact.

The plate I was holding slipped from my hand, and I dropped the remainder of my toast on the floor in the rush to grab the plate. Had Mrs Potter not turned around in her chair, and had her wand in her hand - the glass plate would've crashed. But she waved her wand, saying an incantation, and the plate floated to the counter just before it hit the floor. Another wave of her wand, and the toast I had dropped disappeared. My hands were at my sides, rigidly, and my eyes were fluttering about, begging to shut and close myself off from these people.

"Tea, yes...yes please," I pressed my lips tightly together as she pursed her own, and drew her thin eyebrows in a bit of a frown. I looked to the pretty tea-cups and saucers that Mrs Potter Melly had. "I'm sorry. You just...startled me."

She said nothing, but waved her wand again, and the tea appeared on the counter. "Thank you." I said quietly, picking the mug up, and holding it in both of my hands.

The mug the tea was in was heavy, and white, and there was faded blue on the front, as if there had been writing there. I felt snubbed, and rightly so. Their teacups had flowers and a pretty little handle for you to daintily grasp. And just as I took a sip of my tea, Melly rose her teacup in front of her for a moment before taking a long sip from it.

I decided not to like her. Even if she did seem exceedingly sweet. I wasn't going to like her, because I was trying so bloody hard to fit in here, and it wasn't working. And her being so pretty, brunette, and holding the love of Mrs Potter wasn't helping.

Melly had eyes as blue as the sky, and silky, straight brown hair that was longer than mine. The highlights that shone through it when the light bounced the right way were absolutely darling. She was slim, and seemed to be without trying to be. Everything about her was delicate, and just...pretty. Her french-manicured fingernails, her long legs, her pretty laugh. And the way both James Mrs Potter were so attentive to everything she said, and did.

We had been in the kitchen for probably an hour and I was still standing there, trying to listen to their quiet conversation, and not succeeding. The only time I properly heard anything was when Lexi giggled or spoke loudly. My left leg had a cramp in it, my right foot was asleep, my lower back hurt from being pressed against the edge of the counter for so long, and I had chewed my chapped, bottom lip so much that it began bleeding. I had my arms folded over my chest, and James had not looked my way for 20 minutes, so it was surprising when he spoke of me.

"Yes, Christmas should be brilliant. I'm excited, especially, because Lily's here," My gaze was narrowed and sharp as I stared at him when I first heard the mention of Christmas, but soon softened as I heard his statement. "She's not had a proper one in ages I guess, and I want it to be-" He never got the chance to finish, because Mrs Potter cut him off by turning in her chair to be able to face me again.

"Your parents are divorced, yes? How old are they?."

I stared at this woman, and her tried-innocent expression. She wasn't fooling me.

"Yes, they've been divorced since I was a little girl. My Mum's 37, and my Dad 38." Mrs Potter's eyebrows rose, and she didn't blink for a moment.

"Oh my, that's quite..." She trailed off, and her eyes moved towards James then back to me.

"Young." I finished the sentence for her, gaining James's gaze as well.

"Well, yes. Christmas. We should go shopping at around 1 today at Diagon Alley. Melly, will you be coming? Oh, I just hope the weather brightens up a bit..." I stopped hearing what Mrs Potter was saying, as I set my mug down, and folded my arms, staring right back at him.

He hadn't looked away when his Mother drew attention to me, and I noted that he and his father had the same colour eyes. Lexi had Mrs Potter's wide, blue, innocent eyes.

Mrs Potter didn't look her age, I realized as I stood there, staring at her back turned to me. Her hair was curly, and as white as the snow that was slowly being rained off of the streets. It almost touched her shoulders, and it was hard to imagine she ever had a different hairstyle. She had some laugh lines, and I'm sure had the occasional bag beneath her eye, but she looked good for over 50.

She was too tall, I thought. Probably only an inch shorter than her not-quite-6-feet husband. She was too proud, as well. Even more proud than Jude, you could tell. Sure, if you had the Potter name you should wear it well, but she wore it...Too well, at times. Her own family was pureblood, as well. But not as honoured in the Ministry as the Potter's, and much more humble than the Potter's. I found, in the months or years to come, that she felt lucky to have gotten to where she was now. To give the Potter name a feminine, graceful touch. She just wasn't always the best at showing how appreciative she was of her husband, and his wealthy, wealthy family.

It was at 10:30, when Mr Potter's voice could be heard booming throughout the house, requesting the presence of his two children upstairs, that James left me alone with only his Mother Melly.

"Come here for a second." He said to me, as Lexi tugged his hand and tried to pull him out of the kitchen. I went over to him by the door, and folded my arms again, looking at him expectantly. "This is probably just about Mum's Christmas presents. I'll be back in a few minutes. Just...try to behave." I may have smiled if his tone of voice had been different, but he sounded way too serious for my liking. I raised my eyebrows, and stared at him.

"Behave. Right, _I'll try_,." I chewed my lip again as he allowed himself to be pulled from the room, and he sighed at me before the door swung shut. "Asshole." I murmured, before turning back round to face the other two.

I sighed, and found myself leaning against the wall next to the door, just observing Mrs Potter all deep in conversation with her next-door neighbour's daughter.

"So, where did you go to school at, Melly?" I asked loudly, not bothering to hide my rather broody expression. I assumed she came from a wizarding family.

"Oh. Beauxbaton's,." Melly responded kindly, smiling at me.

"Yes, she's rather fluent in French." Mrs Potter added with some kind of false accent.

"Ah, and what are you doing now, Melly?"

"Oh.," Melly tucked one of her braids behind her ears, and nodded once, as she thought. "I plan on becoming a teacher. I've just got a few courses left to take, and I should be all set. Until then I'm just...babysitting for the Potter's." She laughed lightly, and sipped from her teacup, that had been refilled twice.

"I see." I said, giving Melly a quick quirk of my lips.

Just as Mrs Potter opened her mouth to speak, the swinging door pushed open, and someone walked by me so fast that I didn't catch who it was until they had swooped down to hug Mrs Potter.

It was - _of course,_ I thought in that moment - Sirius. Who didn't notice me leaning against the wall, just by the door that's swinging was slowing. I met Melly's eyes for a moment, and pouted my lips out, staring at the back of Sirius's head, as he then turned to Melly and hugged her. I couldn't think of anything to say.

"You know Lily, I assume?" Mrs Potter said in an uneven voice. It was as if she was trying to sound both pleasant and exasperated at once, and the result was a warbly voice that may belong to a woman of 30 years older than her.

Sirius turned around to follow Mrs Potter's gaze, and he tilted his head at me, giving a smile that I was so thankful to see.

"Can't say I do. Perhaps you should introduce us." I saw Mrs Potter shake her head, and give her eyes a roll.

"What the hell, Sirius?" Melly laughed. I was wondering what the point of that was, too.

"Not an idea, it's a bit early, don't you think? Dani, darling. Doing anything special for James's birthday?"

"No, no. He doesn't want a big deal. I mean, he'll be legal tomorrow. Allowed to do magic, but nope...He doesn't want a party. So he's not going to get one. He had a big enough to-do over his birthday last year."

"8 o'clock sound good, then?" Sirius faced Mrs Potter again, and he grinned at her.

"Honestly, Sirius. We're not doing anything. Giving him gifts, I suppose. You guys can come over, yes."

Sirius nodded. "Good. Remus won't be over today. I'm not supposed to be here, technically. If I want to be the good friend and not ditch him. But...he's got gift-buying to finish up. Me? I don't. So I'm all yours, all day."

"We're leaving to finish up shopping at 1." Mrs Potter informed him, dryly, with a small smirk.

"Oy. Then I'm all yours 'til 1.," He was standing near me, and pushed the door open with one hand, holding it and looking to me. "Lily and I have some conversation to catch up on."

"I'll be right there.," He nodded, and left the kitchen. "I just wanted to..."

I just wanted to rub in Mrs Potter's face how nice I could be. How nice I was going to be. How I was going to make it impossible for her to be cold to me. I just wanted to be sweet, and exactly what she expected when she told James to invite me over for the Holiday's. I was going to be even more girl-next-door-ish _than_ the girl-next-door. Melly.

"I just wanted to thank you, Mrs Potter. For allowing me into your home and extending your warmth and hospitality. You don't know how much - I'm sure - it means to me." I smiled the sweetest smile I could muster, and even managed a tearful expression before turning and leaving the kitchen.

I didn't want to be like this, but I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't want to be some sarcastic bitch, but I didn't know how else..._to_ be. Not to this woman. I could...I could be nice and decent to Melly. For she was genuinely sweet and it showed. I hated it, but it showed. But Mrs Potter was intimidating. She was...James's Mum, and like a Mum to Sirius. So if I messed this up - which at the moment, I felt like I was likely to do - I would be screwed. There would be nothing with either of the Marauders.

"Hi." I found Sirius a few minutes later, up in the hallway of James's floor, situated in the armchair I had been sitting in earlier that morning.

"Hey Lily." He was sprawled out, and his feet were plopped onto the coffee table. I sat down in the matching armchair next to his, and curled up in it, slipping my hands between my knees in order to keep them warm, and to keep me from biting my nails.

We stared out the window for a moment, realizing the grey world of December, and me growing to hate it more like I did every year.

And, as usual, I was being insensitive in my thoughts. I don't know how the fact that Sirius, basically, had no family...always slipped my mind. I was always so down on myself when it came to my family. When _he_ had a bunch of dark-magic nutters running through his blood.

"It's a bit of a cycle, I think I'll have fallen into. I love Holidays and hate my family. My family hates Holidays and claims to love me. Mrs Potter loves Holidays and loves James. So Mrs Potter will hate me and make me hate Holidays."

Slowly, Sirius turned his head to look at me, and he raised a single eyebrow to me. "How the hell does that all relate?"

"I dunno," I put my face into my hands, and tugged the roots of my hair. "I was just trying to find a smooth way to slip _Mrs Potter hating me_ into casual conversation."

Sirius smiled and I turned to sit sideways and cross-legged in the chair, so I could see him.

"Still callin' her Mrs Potter, eh? There must be something wrong, then." I sighed, and watched him expectantly, waiting for him to say more.

"What?" He asked of my stare. "Oh. Well, Dani hating you...Mmm, I'm sure she does.," I opened my mouth to utter some sort of defiant remark, but...I was sure she did, too. "Do you want to know why, Lily?"

"Not really." I muttered moodily, preoccupied with staring at my hands.

"It's because Melly's lived next door forever. Melly's parents and James's parents are the best of buddies. Melly is pretty. Melly is only 2 years older than James. Mrs Potter adores Melly, and we've all known her forever.," It was funny how he started on the subject of Melly first thing, when I hadn't even mentioned it. But I suppose it was all over my face, or something. "And then you walk in. Melly's got pretty eyes, but your's are stunning. Melly's got nice hair but your's is nicer. Melly's got a gorgeous smile, but her's doesn't even compare to yours. Melly's known James her whole life, and you've known him - _really known him -_ for mere months. But you know more about him than she does, probably. You've probably had the chance to dig deeper, Lily. And a Mum can see that sort of shit. Melly walks into a room and she captivates _every damn _guy in it - except for James, Remus, and myself, because she's like a sister. You walk into a room? You capitivate every damn guy in it - including James, Remus, and myself.," Sirius took a breath, and I was no longer staring at my hands. No, I was very much staring at him.

"And you may think '_but you guys are just my friends_'. Yeah, but James? Doesn't let people in. He let you in. He tells you things. You've taken the spot as best friend. He's captivated.  
Remus? A moody bitch sometimes. But only to those who bother him. And those who bother him are those who get under his skin - and that's us. The Marauders. And _you_. No girl has made him so PMS'y. So, you've captivated him.  
And me, I can only assume I don't need to tell you how you captivate me. Jesus, just by looking at me, and when you do I don't want to blink and then my eyes are stinging like something awful, but I just can't look away from you, because earning a stare from you is like-" I had leaned over the small space between our chairs, and crashed my lips onto his own, cutting off his run-on sentence, and relieving both of us.

What he said was so desperately beautiful that I couldn't help myself. The way he made me sound was so unbelievable that my mind was on some kind of overload. I wasn't like that. I didn't captivate. Being James's friend, and pissing Remus off wasn't captivating.

Sirius hadn't said anything about my friendship with James for awhile. He hadn't mentioned, hadn't asked things...But he just assumed, now, that I had taken the role of best friend. We didn't talk about James, and I didn't say James and me were close. But he knew. He knew, somehow, that James did open up to me, and that we were best friends or something as equally corny. And he knew that Remus didn't really like me. Sirius had just been playing oblivious. Maybe James was just playing oblivious, too. Maybe he really knew what was going on with Sirius me and there was no need to inform him of the something-like-a-romance the two of us were persuing. I hoped that was the case, anyway.

To tell you the truth I couldn't think straight with Sirius's lips on mine.

There was something there this time around that hadn't been before. Some passion lacing through it that we had so lacked before, and that I had feared _I_ would lack for the rest of my life. Passion. I didn't think I was able to hold it. I was so listless about some things. There was nothing I was extreme over. When I liked people - that was just it. I just liked them, and falling hopelessly in love seemed impossible for me. When I hated people, it really wasn't so. I was unable to hate because I didn't have any blazing flashes of rage. Kissing Sirius was giving me some sort of half-hearted hope that maybe I was passionate. Maybe I was.

I felt Sirius put a hand on my cheek after a moment of my lips being on his own, and he pulled me a bit further into the kiss. It was the kiss my mouth had been begging for since the first one. It was me finally demanding a bit more. It was him letting out a small sound as I gently bit his bottom lip. It was him taking the initiative and deepening the kiss, something he had done many times before, and something I had not experienced. My stomach soared with some sort of emotion I didn't realize I was capable of, and having his tongue finding it's way into my mouth was something I had been longing for yet I didn't expect this. The warmth it brought caused my head to lurch forward in surprise, and we parted only a moment after this.

"Yeah, so I'm going to do that more often." Sirius murmured in one breath that issued over my cheeks, as his calloused thumb rubbed the skin for a moment.

He pulled his hand back, and slowly did the same with his face. "Do what?" I asked, talking quietly as well, for I did not want him to hear how heavy my breathing was.

"Compliment you in a rambling sort of way." I stared at Sirius with his shaggy brown hair, and those grey-blue eyes, and his somehow fuller bottom lip. I stared at this 17 year old boy who I had just kissed senseless and thought about how there was always something new about him. Some different, dangerous, territory to explore each day I found us together. His eyes were it today. His eyes were changed. Darker if that was possible given the colour. They held something I had always knew he had. Passion. Intense, utterly evolved, passion. He had the passion. He gave that kiss the passion. I had kissed him but it turned around to _him kissing me_.

_He is Sirius Black, and there is no denying that, Lily. He'd always have some power over you, over everyone. He'd always be better, stronger, and even nicer than you. He'd always laugh understandingly because he was like that. He is Sirius Black, and what the hell are you doing with him?_

I blinked myself from my thoughts, for I had been staring at him a bit too long and he had begun to frown.

"Oh Sirius," I sighed, leaning back into the chair, and shutting my eyes. "We're quite the pair."

He reached a hand out and traced his fingertips over the palm of my hand, before standing up and leaving me alone. "I'll be in the kitchen, Lily. And yes we are."

1 o'clock that day came and went, but mostly it came. I had no choice but to accomany the family along to Diagon Alley, as I had shopping to finish up. They decided we'd Floo directly to the Leaky Cauldron, and Sirius had left before Lunch. I hadn't seen him again after I kissed him. It was fine with me, I didn't think we should be snogging off in dark corners of his best-friend's house anyhow. And I didn't want to talk about it because I was afraid there was nothing to talk about.

When we, everyone but Jude Lexi, arrived in Diagon Alley everyone had a place to go, so nobody was going to be together. Mrs Potter went one direction, Melly another, and James stood with me for but a moment before declaring he wanted to buy himself some Qudditch Supplies.

"Bloody hell." I muttered to myself, standing in the middle of the street between two shops of which I loved. Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions, and Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. But neither looked appealing on this grey winter's day, the streets overcrowded with people buying Christmas presents, and me having no idea what I was doing here.

It had to have been about 5 degrees celcius. Unusually mild for this time of year. But it was no surprise to me that the sky wasn't filled with snowflakes. It was no surprise to me that the streets looked grubby with too many murky puddles lying about. It was no surprise to me that the hem of the robes I was wearing - for in the wizarding world you wear wizardry attire - were sodden and muddy from me having trod on them a few times.

My feet were carrying me no where's fast. I just stood staring in a direction, trying to make my mind work properly and think of the things I had to buy.

When it started raining a cold, harsh rain, me still standing in the same spot, it was then I realized just how much was slowly changing in this World of Magic. Me for one. But I was least of it. There was so much gone wrong and I was too blind to see it. There was so much I missing, and too naive, stubborn to see it.

I swear to God that every person in Diagon Alley had an umbrella with them. Every last one of them, almost in unison, pulled an umbrella out from the folds of their cloaks, and put them up, hovering them over their heads, protecting themselves from the December rain. It was a sea of black in Diagon Alley, at quarter after one in the afternoon. For as far as I could see down the Alley - I saw black umbrellas. I didn't have one. I stood there, soaked to the bone in only a minute. My eyes were narrowed in order to see through the blinding rain. I turned around, heading back in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. I left the Potter's to their business, and everyone else to their black umbrella's.

I went and caught a Muggle bus the hell out of there.

**abc.**


	12. Hearts of Controversy

**Chapter 12**  
"Hearts of Controversy"

**-**

It wasn't twenty mintues, and I was there. But being there didn't make me feel anymore complete. It didn't fill some gap that was creating some emotional mess for me. Stepping off of the bus at the bus stop, walking the short distance until I saw the street sign, and easily finding the house - Did nothing to ease the fluttering in my stomach. Instead it just intensified until it was fluttering no longer. It was some combination of dead weight being dropped down my throat, some burning trying to rise from the pit of my stomach, and some crashing wave of dizzying realization.

_' For Sale_

_Everett Realty Land Agents '_

And the company's phone number followed after this.

The thing that got me, though was...This was my house.

The sign looked weathered, as if it had stood through a good few storms this month. Maybe even throughout November. Whatever the case was, I knew it hadn't just been put there a day ago. It had been there. There had been time enough to contact me, and let me know.

As shocking as it was - the fact my mother would put the house up for sale without even letting me know - I wasn't...surprised. It had never really been a home to me. A house, yes. But not a home. I hadn't actually _lived_ there since I was 11. Hogwarts had been more of a home for me for almost 7 years. And even when I was home during the Holidays I spent the majority of my time at my Grandparent's home or at a friends house. My grandparents - the only set left living, my dad's parents **- **lived in Hastings, a small, seaside town. It was different from where we lived. The beach right there, and this world no one else has. We didn't live in the middle of the city, but we lived in the nice suburbs, in a nice house, with a nice car, and all that was missing for my whole childhood was the nice family.

My Dad had moved out when my parents divorced, and as far as I knew had a bachelor's pad in the city. Unless he had moved in with Rebecca, or something. And so my Mum got the house, and now it was for sale.

The rain hadn't lightened any, not that I was in any position to care now that my robes were so soaked with so much rain water that they were actually weighing me down some. My purse hung from my shoulder, and it was as if I had forgot about the small, gold key that was always there. But my hands did not. They unzipped my purse and in an instant I was walking up the gravel driveway, then climbing up the short set of wooden stairs, and finally putting the key in the lock. I turned it, and I heard a click, and then the door was open.

I twisted the knob, and stepped into my house. Nobody was home, of course. My Mum and Petunia were off in America with the rest of their family. It hadn't been until recently that they left, because a Christmas tablecloth was on the table and other Christmas decorations hung here and there. So, it's not like they had moved out, or anything. Nothing was out of place. Truthfully, nothing ever really changed around here. It was like taking a step back into time where the furniture never changed, and the fridge was always full, and the milk even sat in the same spot on the shelves in the fridge. There were always chocolate chipit cookies, and the kitchen always smelled nice, continuing to give off that vibe that a nice, unbroken family lived here. It was as if the plants did not even change. I felt 11 years old again, and very well could have been. Home for the Holidays, decorations hanging. It was almost perfect...Except there was no smell of pine, because there was no tree up, of course. And there was no family home.

I unfastened the robes I was wearing and let them fall to the floor. Straightening the thin, long-sleeved black shirt I was wearing beneath them, I began wandering through the house. And it was almost sad how nothing I saw made me smile, sad, angry...Anything. This was the home my Mum had made for herself, along with my sister. This was the home I had so nervously left behind, and years later became glad for it. And even though nothing was packed, and the pictures were still on the wall - It was so very empty.

Finding my wand in my purse, I dried my clothes, and robes, and decided I'd feel much more comfortable finishing my Christmas shopping up in a Muggle mall. Grab some coffee at a place in the mall, maybe some supper. Remind myself who I was, and where I came from, and not to get too ahead of myself.

So, that's what I did. Not thinking about the events of the past day, I just went about buying everything on my list. A recipe book for Mrs Potter, a new Christmas-themed teapot, and tealights. For Mr Potter it was a book on cars - for he had enough cars, I assumed he liked them - and a box of rather expensive cigars. I didn't know what to buy Lexi. Sure, she was a little girl, and would be forced to like anything I bought her. But she was also - next to Mrs Potter - the most brutally honest of the bunch, so I bought her a 'Barbie' and a fluffy white, blue-eyed kitten. A stuffed animal, of course. I was making a bad impression as it was, I don't think bringing a kitten home would go over big. Sirius didn't want to exchange presents, I reminded myself with a frown, and James was the only one left.

A bottle of cologne that I thought smelled the best, a handbook on Muggle football (soccer) just because I thought he might be interested, and a grey sweatshirt - sporting the logo of some British football team, that I planned on magically changing to the name of his favourite Qudditch team - to replace the one I took from him and had no intentions on giving back.

And shopping? Took my mind off things for a bit. Made me feel a bit better. Not to mention I was, in fact, spending money of my Mum's I found laying on the counter at home.

It was 6 o'clock that evening that I walked up the drive to my house again, with a styrofoam cup of hot chocolate in hand.

I looked like Hell, but that was something I couldn't obsess over at the moment. My hair had gone unbelievably curly from the rain - that had subsided just after i arrived at the mall , and my clothes still felt damp after walking home through the heavy, moist air.

When I walked into the house I dropped all of my bags onto the floor, and kicked my shoes off. I was just digging around in the freezer for some ice cream when headlights shone in the large window in the kitchen, and I squinted against them as they blinded me.

Ducking down I went over to the window and peeked out the curtains to see who had pulled up. The fact of the matter was, I had almost every light in the house on, and the television turned up quite loudly, so there was no pretending I wasn't home.

And as the driver and passenger's side doors opened, I realized that Petunia was not in America at all.

"What the hell are you doing here?" My sister was tall, and thin, with curly, dirty-blonde hair. She could've been pretty. She almost was. Had her nose not been turned upwards towards the end of it, and her neck not been so long. Neither of those things would matter, of course, if they didn't suit her perfectly. She turned her nose up at anyone she thought wasn't good enough, whether she knew them or not, and she was such a prying person that the length of her neck assisted her in spying on the neighbours.

"Nice to see you too, Petunia." I said dryly, as she almost ran to the front door, and flew it open, her over-weight boyfriend slowly coming behind.

She snapped her head around, saw the boyfriend -Vernon - put a foot on the bottom stair, and then looked back to me.

"Look. We're engaged." She told me quickly, extending her hand and showing off the diamond engagement ring.

I raised my eyebrows, and opened my mouth to ask questions, but the _fiancé_ had arrived beside Petunia in the doorway.

"Vernon," Petunia said, in a pleasant voice, staring straight at me, and holding my gaze as long as humanly possible. "This is my sister, Lily."

"Ah, Lily," He held out a large hand, and nearly crushed my own when he shook it. "I've heard...hardly anything about you, but you seem to be a lovely person. Nice to finally meet you."

"Same to you. Nice to meet you. Finally." I strained a smile, and stepped back so they could enter the house.

Petunia briskly walked past me, and Vernon was still smiling as he stepped into the house. It obviously wasn't his first time here.

"Petunia, Jesus. What the hell are you on?" I asked, watching as she took her scarf from around her neck, and shakily removed her gloves, and craned her neck to apparently try to see every inch of the house.

"I just didn't expect you, was all." I shut the door, and then leaned against it, folding my arms across my chest, and pouting my lips as I watched my jumpy sister.

"Yeah, well, I didn't expect that _'for sale'_ sign on the lawn. Deal with it."

I gave her a narrow-eyed glance before going into the living room, and stuffing my robes into one of my shopping bags. It was easy to tell that Petunia's problem was my being a Witch. And unexpectedly home. Vernon didn't know, and...I wasn't surprised.

My sister hated the very thought of a world full of magic, and magical people, and magical creatues - right from the beginning. I don't know if that was because she hated _me_ right from the beginning or she was just too narrow-minded. Whatever the case, I knew she probably didn't even want to tell Vernon I _exsisted_ let alone the fact I lived in a world of talking furniture, magic wands, and the like.

"For _God's_ sake, Lily. Put some clothes on." Petunia and Vernon had taken off their jackets and winter-wear and set them aside, making themselves comfortable, it seemed.

Petunia was coming down the stairs having changed, and threw me a black, zip-up sweater. "I have clothes on..." I looked down at the same jeans I had worn all day, and the black shirt I had changed into to go shopping.

She scrunched her nose up as she settled herself down on one of the couches next to Vernon - in the largest room of the house, the living room is the room we were in. It was quite open and had quite a bit of furniture around it's perimeter. Our house was so bland compared to James's. White walls with wall-paper boarder. White carpet. Every room, I almost swear, was a combination of beige, and white.

"Well, your shirt's too tight. You still dress like a teeanger."

"I am one! _I'm eighteen._ Maybe you'd have known that if you gave a _shit._ Thank Mum when she comes back around, too. For the birthday wishes." I folded my arms, plunked down in an armchair and stared at the television that was on the evening news.

"You can't go showing up a few days before Christmas and bitching about your problems. How can you have any? You've been gone from home almost your whole life, and you left us with all the problems."

Vernon was looking rather uncomfortable as the inevitable argument with my sister began to simmer. The explosion was the worst part of it. I almost lived for the rush you get when you're in the midst of an argument and saying everything you've been meaning to say _your whole life_. It's the most insane feeling in the world. That's what it is. A feeling of brief insanity as you are absolutely free of your torturing thoughts. The boiling of the argument was when everything got out into the air and you stood your tallest and stood your ground. Something rushed through your veins that felt so good you'd continue arguing for the rest of your life just to know you're capable of shouting that loudly and making sense while doing so. But whatever ran through your veins extracted just as quickly and you were left with some empty feeling that you'd wish upon nobody, not even the one you were arguing with.

But I was just getting started, and at the beginning you are so sure you can handle the explosion.

So sure.

"I have Holidays! I wouldn't've been gone 'almost my whole life' if there was some acceptance here! If I felt _welcome_ in my own home! If-"

"Well you're not." Petunia spat in a tone of voice I hadn't heard her use since she was 8. Fed up, stubborn, on the brink of a rage black-out.

"Not welcome, Petunia? It's not your house. It's not even going to be Mum's house. Why's she selling? Why the _fuck_ is she selling? Does she hate memories that much? Hate being happy?" Petunia had stood up and advanced on me, but I stayed sitting in the chair, defiantly pursing my lips and tossing the zip-up she had thrown at me over onto the couch, just missing Vernon.

"That woman isn't capable of being happy and you're exactly like her. You both think the world's out to get you."

"I'm not like her," I said in a lazy, deepened tone. "You wouldn't know if I was happy or not, that's for certain. I've been gone almost my whole life, apparently, and when I do come around _this is what happens._"

Petunia was standing so close to me that her toes could've been touching my own if I didn't curl them up. She swallowed hard, and I saw her lip curling with some sort of disgust she had been trying to contain her whole life - trying and not succeeding in.

"What the _fuck_ do you want? Do you want money? Do you want to ruin the Holiday's for me? I finally got out of going to America with Mum, and was going to be happy, and you come along. What the fuck do you want, Lily?" I had never heard my sister curse before.

"I wanted a place to feel warm. I wanted to come home and get that warm, reminiscing feeling that you're supposed to get during Holidays. I'm at a friend's house. We had a fall out of sorts. Over his Mum, nonetheless. Hell, it seems I've got a hard time with Mum's."

Petunia rose her thin eyebrows and stared at me. "You're staying at a _boy's _house? You run off to that school full of," She cast Vernon a glance, who was staring at the television, with a cup of tea in hand, ignoring us to the best of his ability. "_Freaks_ and you get to do _whatever the hell you want_. Mum would be _so_ proud, Lily."

"Mmm, he is a boy," I drawled, folding my arms again as Petunia bent too close for comfort. "He turns 18 tomorrow."

"I don't even _know_ you." She said in a choked whisper, and her eyes spilled over something that was a million lifetimes out of my grasp, but had we been 10 and 12 we could've, God...things could've been...She wasn't going to cry. Petunia didn't do that.

"Because you _choose not to_. God, Petunia. Just hurry up and start that life you've been wanting since you were 8. Just detach yourself from us as quickly as possible. Get the hell out of my face." I stood up, and pushed past her, clenching my fists together at my sides.

"You can't include yourself in that 'us'. You aren't part of the 'us'. Mum, Dad, and me are the 'us'. _You've _detached _your_self. You've brought all of this ignorance to you on yourself. _You_ didn't let them love you."

I went to my room, or the room that was my room, not long after that statement. Petunia informed me that Vernon and her were only staying the night in order to be there when the Land Agent came in the morning. Apparently to show the house, or I don't know.

That explosion? It happened. Not in the way I expected it to. I expected it to end with me throwing the triumphant look to Petunia. And proving her wrong. Proving how forgotten and unloved I was. And then there'd be a rush of blood to the head as I'd see the clenched jaw on my sister, and I'd walk by her with my head held high and wouldn't feel bad until much, much later.

But this explosion wasn't one I've had before. It was as if I was struck by something. Hit forcefully. I brought the ignorance to my life outside of my family on myself. Them not caring, them not having much contact, was brought on myself. Those words left her mouth easily so it wasn't something she just came up with. I shut my eyes, and it felt like I didn't open them again until I was in the dark bedroom, closing the door. I was so blind. To everything.

I stared around the dark bedroom and felt slightly dizzy as I threw myself down onto my bed that creaked as I did so.

_Jesus,_ I thought, throwing my head into my hands, _When did she become so mature...in her own...bitchy way._

With a shaky sigh I let my head find the pillow, and folded my arms over my stomach, laying flat on my back, my head tilted to the side in order to see out of the window.

I was...tired. Mentally. Physically. I never wanted to see five o'clock a.m. again.

At quarter to twelve I woke with a start, as I heard a distant...knocking. My eyes flew open as I tried to pinpoint the sound, but...couldn't...

I quietly climbed out of bed, and tiptoed down the stairs. I could hear the television on in Petunia's room, and no lights were on downstairs.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I saw a running car sitting in the driveway, the headlights dimmed. I couldn't tell what colour it was, but it looked fancy. I couldn't tell whether or not anyone was in it, either. But that's when my sister's voice could be heard.

"Lily, there's someone at the door. I was in bed watching television with Vernon, and they just won't go away, I don't..."

I crept into the kitchen, where I found Petunia pressed nearly flat against a wall.

Passing her, I went up on my tiptoes and tried to peer out the window. I could just barely make out a...figure...tall...I didn't know...

"Go wake Vernon." I muttered, reaching a hand slowly to the curtain and pulling it back some. I could see the front step to the left from this window, and whoever it was couldn't see me, as they were standing staight, staring at the...

"Stop! Petunia, never mind." I rushed to the light switches and turned the kitchen one and outside light on. Quickly unlocking the door I let him in before he drowned in the once-again pouring rain.

"Who is it?" Petunia hissed, coming back into the kitchen, drawing her robe more tightly around herself.

"James," I began, staring at the boy who was soaked from head to foot, and had I been able to see his eyes properly - his fringe was matted down because of the rain - I would've known then how angry he was. I ignored my sister again as she persisted to know who this tall, dark, and handsome was. "I'm so-"

"Don't you dare say sorry," He ran a hand back through his hair, as droplets of water ran down from his hair and into his eyes. "I've called you a bitch once before, Lily, and I have half a mind to do it again-"

"_This is how these freaks treat you?_" Petunia asked, shrilly, standing near the doorway of the kitchen as she realized the boy stood before me, dripping water all over the 'welcome' mat, was my age. And most likely from my school.

"Shut up, Petunia." I said quietly, as she began speaking again from behind me. I was watching James.

"The whole god damn world doesn't revolve around you, Lily." I swallowed and parted my lips to say something, unblinking as I watched this boy.

I had never seen him like this, and there was some shocking comfort I found in it. As selfish as it is, James Potter angry at me...was right. It was like I had been trying for that since the first day we began things. Truly angry at me. Eyes blazing with some kind of light, and him seeming even taller as he stood there, broad-shouldered, and hating me.

"I never said it did." I eventually said, with a dry, quiet voice.

"You'd think it did. The way you act. You think you can turn your back on people, and not deal with the shit you dish out. You left. You just up and left, and I looked for you all day. My Mum said you probably just wanted time to yourself, but even she was looking anxious when it was 8 o'clock and you still hadn't shown up. Did you _want that attention_, Lily? Because I can't figure out why else you left. You could've talked to me, or my Mum if it was bothering you that much. I can't even look at-"

"James, maybe you should calm down..." I interrupted him, as politely as that can be done, and all I earned was a wild-eyed glare from him.

"I'm scared that you don't get it," He muttered softly, looking as if his jaw was clenched a bit. "You thought my Mum was hostile towards you before? How do you expect her to be now? I invited you to spend the Holidays, I didn't plan on acting as babysitter-"

"Then maybe you shouldn't've come! For _fuck's sake_." I turned around, intentions to storm up the stairs, but Petunia was in the doorway of the kitchen, standing with her arms folded.

"I think you should leave, Lily. I don't want to have to call the police."

"_Move_." I said, murderously, pushing past her and grabbing the bags I had in the living room with fucking Christmas presents.

I came back into the kitchen a second later with my bags in hand, and looked from James to Petunia.

"Both of you, you especially Petunia, talk to me like I am five years old. And I am so sick of it. Just fucking _stop it_." I slipped my feet into my shoes, and went out the door, James following after a second.

"I never want to see him again, Lily! Not ever." Petunia shouted from the step, before slamming the door shut, and turning the lights off not long after.

"Where's your coat?" James asked, in a tone of voice that clearly stated he'd rather burn himself than talk to me at the momet, but it had cooled down a considerable amount, and the cold rain was sure to change to snow.

"I don't _have_ one. I wore robes. They're muddy and buried at the bottom of one of these bags."

We got into the red car that James's father had picked us up in at the train station, and it was quite a different situation this time around. I had the passenger seat, and James was driving - for one. And there was no light-hearted, friendly hand-holding - for two.

Everything about it was dark. Everything about him was dark. Everything about the almost-midnight sky was dark. The rain fell but you couldn't even see the rain drops falling until they hit the windshield. You didn't know they were there. It was unnerving along with the silence in the car. I kept thinking things to myself. Hearing my own voice. It was screaming at me to press my ear against the window and sate my need to hear something other than my own torture. Hear the rain. I couldn't hear him breathe. It was like he, subconciously, knew that would make me feel better. His breathing, his voice...And anything that would make me feel anything but a guilty, useless, bitch...He would not supply. It was as if that arrogant and stubborn streak I knew he had but rarely seen - was very much there. Showing itself tonight. _He_ was showing himself. This was a part of James I had to get to know if we were going to be able to...I don't know. Be friends. Be something.

A dull throb began somewhere behind my eyes, and intensified until my whole head felt as if it were going to split open from the pain. It hurt to move my eyes, it hurt to blink. I shut my eyes, leaning against the cool glass of the window.

I could open my eyes to narrow slits and just barely seen James. And that's how I stayed, sitting on a bit of an angle, watching that brooding James, as he sped down the water-slicked road.

"James," He slammed the brakes on, purposely, as a set of lights changed to red, and he didn't look at me as I spoke his name. "I need," As soon as the light changed to green he sped off, and all of this stopping and going, and jerking about wasn't helping my head.

"_You need what?_" James spat at me, rounding a turn.

"I don't know," I murmured, near tears. "Stop driving so fast. My head hurts. God, I think it was the silence that gave it to me. I need you to..."

"Say something? You need me to say something? Sweetheart," It didn't sound sweet, though. It sounded bitter and cold and it was a slap over the face. "That's not going to fucking happen, especially if you'd like your head to hurt less."

"Fine." I leaned back against the window, and listened to the hum of the car as the light from streetlamps washed over his face again and again, dizzying me slightly, seeing his face so set and angry.

It was unnerving almost scary, but in this breathtaking way.

-

"Locked you out, did he?" I vaguely recall hearing her voice, as my thoughts were so preoccupied with the car ride home.

It was a surreal, almost out-of-body experience, sitting there on the doorstep, feeling as if I could almost see the puddles of water cloud over with frost from the half-midnight air.

"I don't think he meant to." Was all I replied, not making an attempt to stand and go into the house. I was trying to remember the soft almost-surrender he gave me, as we turned down the street...

_"There's just a lot going on out there right now," Was his starting sentence, completely out of the blue, as we had drove for a half hour without any further conversation. His hazel-green eyes wandered to his window for a moment, observing the emptying streets. "And I don't think you realize it. Not many people do. I don't want to, but there's no way around this shit," I had not heard him curse as much in the time I had known him then I had tonight. "And you just disappeared. God, you want me to be rational, Lily? You kill that part of me."_

_-_

And that was the last words he spoke to me. I was in some sort of a daze. Half-asleep, half-holding onto his words. But I must've fell asleep a split second after he spoke to me, because the next thing I know I was waking up to a still-warm car, and an empty driver's seat. He didn't wake me before going in the house.

Somehow I stumbled from the car - the abrupt change from the charmed-warm car to the steadily dropping December temperature was enough to knock me down - and ended up on the doorstep. I knocked once, felt dizzy, and sat down. I didn't know what I was waiting for, but it wasn't for someone to let me in. I didn't really want in.

Melly pulled the door open after about 5 mintues of me sitting there, jacketless and all.

She didn't look surprised to see me, and quickly - in an amused tone - asked if he had locked me out.

"I was just on my way home. Saw you sitting out here...Glad he found you."

The brunette was in the midst of wrapping her scarf around her neck, and putting her hands into her pockets.

"I wasn't far." Was all I murmured, clasping my hands together to wane of the cold.

"Well, goodnight," She went down the few stone steps, and then looked back up to me, sitting there. "He's still up, by the way. Lexi fell asleep before I could put her to bed, and I guess he's in the process of that now. See you, Lily."

"'Night." And I watched her hurry across the street, right up the pathway to her house.

I sighed, and leaned back until I was resting on my elbows, staring up at the sky. Honestly, I could have just stayed sitting here. I didn't _believe_ that it was raining only a couple of hours ago. The clouds had cleared, and the night turned bright, due to the moon. The city's lights were a ways off, but you could see them giving a faint glow to the sky. That faint glow almost overpowered the stars, but a few were left brightly twinkling, just to provide for this time of year. For this night so close to the Holy one. The stars didn't sleep this time of year, for everyone else slept less, too. So there they stayed, offering a diamond-like twinkle for weary on-lookers to take some kind of comfort of it. Weary on-lookers like myself.

Sighing, again, I stood up, and brushed myself off, willing the numbness in my fingertips to leave. I hadn't realized how cold it was until I had pushed the door half-way open, and then caught my breath floating up into the air. I tilted my head, and blew another breath out through my mouth, and watched it become a white, vapour and float off towards those blinding city lights and far-off stars.

Eventually, however, the tempting warmth of the house overwhelmed me, and I stepped in, closing the door, locking it, and leaning against it.

My ears seemed to buzz for a moment as I adjusted from the sounds of the suburbian night to the warm Potter household. The quiet sound of their too-large television making it's way from the living room to the hallway, the welcoming light from lamps pouring in from the living room, the scent of fresh-baked good's wafting from just beyond that swinging kitchen door, and the deep voice of a brother along with the giggling of his little sister.

I stepped into the living room to see Lexi snuggled down into the couch cushions with a knitted blanket wrapped around her, and James sitting on the edge of the couch, a hand resting on the back of it, as he leaned over her to tickle her with one hand. He seemed to be trying to make sleep look appealing to a five year old girl much too excited for the 4-day-off Christmas.

"Lily! If I go to sleep will Santa Claus come a day early?" Lexi sat straight up out of James's grip, offered a roll of her eyes, and looked at me expectantly.

"Hate to say it, but no." I smiled at her, as she glared at James dramatically, with her arms folded.

"You're such a..._poopyhead_."

"Pardon me?" James raised his eyebrows at the girl, and she scrunched her button-nose up, trying to suppress giggles.

"Listen, all I try to do is be here for the Holidays, and be a _nice_ big brother, and you're such a little-"

"_James_. Honestly, she's _five_, and was just joking. Urgh." I put my fingertips to my forehead, as James turned around to look at me, obviously not expecting my two cent's worth.

"What's wrong, Lily?" Lexi asked, sounding genuinely concerned, as James scoffed.

"Nothing, my head just hurts."

"Whhyy?" She persisted, tilting her head and watching me closely.

"Well, you and your brother fight sometimes, right?"

She nodded, her head of blonde curls bouncing.

"Well, I have a sister. And I went to see her today. We fight, too. And we fought so much today that my head started hurting."

"Did she _hit _you?"

I smiled, and shook my head. "No, we just yelled too much. Sometimes it's good to fight. You just love each other more."

"O-oh. Are you and James in a fight, too?"

I pressed my lips together, making a smacking sound as I thought, and then shook my head again. "Well-

"Yes, we are, Lexi. Now go to bed." James interrupted smoothly.

"Oh! Good, then. You'll finish your fight and then love each other more. Ohkay, James I'll go to bed now. Come say goodnight." She bounded off the couch, dropping the blanket from around her, and raced up the stairs.

My jaw quivered slightly as James looked me over, and sighed heavily at me. I felt like I had bloody frost hanging from the ends of my hair, but I was just being dramatic. Even so, this shirt was nothing sort of warm. Petunia was right, it was a bit too thin.

"Here." James picked the blanket up that Lexi had wrapped around her, and draped it over my shoulders as he walked by me. "Come tuck her in with me."

Given the position the two of us were in, and the fact he was actually offering me words...I couldn't do anything but go with him. I was lucky he was offering that. James had seemed...positively livid, earlier.

James had gone into the bathroom when we got to the top of the stairs, and took to shutting the light off, and picking a fallen towel up off the floor, so I just made my way into Lexi's bedroom.

"'Night Lexi." I said through a yawn, causing her to yawn, too.

She grinned at me, and turned on her side to face me. I sat down onto the floor, and leaned on the side of the bed, stroking her curls off her forehead. I don't know. It's just something I remembered from when I was a girl. Stroking my hair could put me to sleep in an instant. Probably still could. And at the moment I wouldn't much mind a messy-haired boy trying that out. _No_, be _mad_ at the messy-haired boy, Lily. That messy-haired boy looks down on you.

I found my eyes shut for a moment as Lexi's did, too. But she wasn't asleep, as her voice - a lot quieter - brought me back.

"Lily?"

"Mmm Hmm." I murmured, brushing my fingertips over her sweetly-warm forehead.

"Do you love my brother?" I laughed softly, and shut my eyes again. I couldn't do this now. I couldn't think of caring about him at all, because he was so...I don't know.

"Do you want me to?" I murmured at her through another chuckle.

I pulled my eyes open to see her nod and my laughing stopped. "He's my best friend, Lexi. I'm sure I could. Friends love friends, and your brother can be a good friend."

"You wanna know a secret?" The little girl yawned again, and pulled the comforters up to her chin.

"Sure."

"I thinnkk...he loves yoou." I smiled at her, and kissed my palm, then pressing it against her cheek.

"You're sweet, darling."

I watched her drift off, and wondered what had been taking James so long. It was just a light switch, and a towel. He...

My eyes widened as I listened for a moment, and I swore that I could hear him breathe. Unlike earlier. I looked over my shoulder, and there he was. Leaning against the frame of the doorway, with his arms folded over his chest, and a pensive look on his face.

"Imaginative kid, isn't she?" James said quietly, before crossing the room, donning a kiss onto her forehead, and then standing above me with his arms folded again.

"I don't think you have to be imaginative to come up with that. Do you think, maybe, some other people in this house are getting...imaginative when it comes to us?" I spoke to him as we left the room, him shutting the door halfway.

I shifted the blanket around my shoulders as we made our way back down the stairs, and into the kitchen, which was less-bright, and intimidating this time of night, than it had been earlier that day. It was dark, save for the small amount of light coming from a light above the kitchen sink.

James had a mug sitting on the counter already, and he boiled the water in the kettle in an instant with a tap of his wand.

"Want some?" He asked, gesturing to the mug that had hot-chocolate powder in it.

"Yes please." I said with a smile. What girl could resist hot chocolate at almost 1 in the morning, with a boy whom she swore she was going to hate? Not I, that's for sure.

He handed me my mug of cocoa, and he held onto it a moment longer when I went to take it from him.

I pursed my lips, one hand clasping the ends of the blanket together so that it wouldn't fall from my shoulders, and the other pressed against the side of the mug, revelling in it's warmth. I tilted my head, and raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for him to say or do something, rather than stare at me with that hazel, unblinking gaze.

"I don't love you, Lily." His voice a rugged murmur, and his full of some swirling mist that I wasn't about to try to see through.

I don't love you, Lily. The simplest thing in the world. And my house was for sale. God, right about now you could put a price tag on my sick, sick heart and sell it, too. It was no use to me.

**-**

"Ohkay, but answer my question. Are your parents...getting the wrong impression?" James let go of the mug, and brushed by me, heading to the living room, and I quickly followed.

"I told my Mum a hundred times over that you I were just friends, ohkay? In the letters to come after she said I should invite you. I reminded her everytime that we were just friends. I don't know what it has to do with any-"

"If your Mum thinks that you and me are more-than-friends then she is _going_ to be hostile towards me, because she doesn't want me moving in on Melly-territory!"

"This is about _Melly_?" James asked, his voice dangerously quiet, stopping short in his progress to the living room and turning to face me. "You took off today because of _Melly_?"

"No, this isn't about Melly. This about you and me, James," I made a sound of frustration as I walked by him, into the living room, that was glowing orange from an absolutely gorgeous hearth, with a crackling fire.

"And I don't love you, either."

I settled down onto the couch, shivering for whatever reason and glad for the blanket's warmth at the moment.

There were a hundred moments in which I truly appreciated James, half as many moments when I would like to slap him, and one single moment when I looked at him and saw so much more than I meant to. A boy that was really a man, and friend that was more than a friend, and just so many emotions lay within a simple expression from him that it could confuse any girl.

He sat down next to me when I rose the mug of cocoa to my lips and took a long sip, realizing just how very much I loved hot chocolate. How it just seemed to course through your veins, finding the coldest place within you, staring from there - and then warming you up instantly.

"This is good." I said quietly, watching the flames dance. It was such an odd contrast, this room. This large, muggle television, casting a blue glare over our faces. And then the old fireplace, flames leaping and painting a picture of years gone past.

"It is." James agreed slowly, taking a seat next to me, and plopping his feet up on the coffee table.

And that's how we stayed for at least five minutes, until I had this overwhelming urge to ruin it. Well, just...break it. Not let things remain like they were, because he had been _so cold_ earlier, and I...

I set my mug onto the coffee table, and turned to face James, who was to the right of me. I crossed my legs, and pressed my fingertips together, and before long I could feel his gaze on me.

"You want to talk about it, don't you?" I offered a nod as he asked this, and didn't look up from my hands.

"I was worried," He muttered, and it sounded muffled in an echoing sort of way as he took a sip from his mug. "I don't know. I don't have much of an excuse for the number of times I said fuck, and I don't have much of an excuse for talking to you like you're five. All I can say is I'm sorry."

"But do you mean it? Do you mean you're sorry? Or do you not regret it, because you feel it was necessary for that to happen to the two of us? A fight..."

James massaged his temple with one of his hands, and sighed. "I haven't yelled that much in years, and dammit it felt good to let you know how I was really feeling, I guess. But I was a bit out of place. You just...scared the hell out of me...disappearing like you did...there's so much..." James trailed off as I cleared my throat, and tilted my head to the side, taking a good, long look at him.

"I promise you I'm stronger than you think I am," I whispered, my nose stinging with a rush of emotion as I tried not to blink. "I'm _not_ five. I don't want this friendship if it's going to be your _babysitting_ me." James sighed, leaning his head back against the back of the couch.

"Sometimes when I look at you it's like I have been - looking at you - for my whole life, and I don't want you to_ not _want this friendship. I swear it, Lily, like I said earlier - I'm a completely irrational person when I'm around you."

I sighed. "I just wanted your Mum to like me, and she...she didn't. And you said she would, and...I don't know why I went there-"

"_Why did you_? You constantly are saying how awful your sister's been to you, how your Mum is so-"

"It was fate, I think. Or something like that. If I hadn't...left Diagon Alley...if I your Mum had liked me...I wouldn't've ended up at home, and I wouldn't've seen the _'for sale'_ sign on the lawn. I wouldn't've realized just how very...gone I am to them. I wouldn't've seen that side of you."

I saw him swallow hard, his adam's apple protruding. "I wasn't the nicest, was I? I dunno, I just lost it-"

"Stop trying to justify it. Just leave it. It's a part of you, and you were worried, and if that's how you get when you're worried - then I'm flattered. You were so different..." I trailed off quietly, and he nodded, draining his mug, and setting it on the coffee table.

"All right, I'm off to bed. Goodnight." I nodded, and turned to the television.

"I love this show." Was all I said, as he rounded the corner and I saw him start up the stairs.

It wasn't a minute and he back into the living room, with a hand at the nape of his neck, rubbing it in a nervous-habit sort of way.

"That was rude. I won't go to bed. S'long as you're going to be up." I had laid down on the couch and spread my feet out on it, so that when he went to sit back down, he had to lift my feet, sit down, and then position my feet in his lap.

"Warm enough?" He asked, needlessly, tracing his fingertips over my socked feet. I giggled slightly, and nodded my head.

"Yes, thanks."

"Mmm Hmm." James muttered, and his fingertips were at the bottom of my pajama pants, before wandering up underneath.

Expecting this to be ticklish, I stiffened. But it was...the complete opposite. It was soothing. He kind of massaged the skin, and I sent him a warm smile when he looked up at me.

"You've got lovely legs, you know." I laughed as he grinned cheekily, and took his hand out from my pantleg.

"Thanks for that." I said sarcastically, smiling, and sat up, leaning over close to him.

"Hey, James?" I whispered after a minute.

"Yeah Lil?" He was watching the television, and I grinned further, seeing the clock that read close to 1 in the morning.

"Happy Birthday.

There was something about how quickly he changed that...threw me off. Made me confused, and made my head spin. He was mean earlier, but I guess in a necessary way. There was something admirable about the way he spoke to me, cursing his head off. Just something about him then that oozed superiority, and a broad span of chest, and shoulders. And then he'd come back down to meet Earth, and apologize for his words. It was a comfort to know that not all people were stubborn and hostile when it came to that one word, 'sorry'.

He was no less of a mystery as the days progressed and I found myself wrapped deeper in who he was. No less of a mystery, in any way.

Perhaps in one way, and one way only. How he saw me, you know. He cared about me. That was there, staring me directly in the face - hazel meeting my green, it was there - but I? Was so blind to it.

And his birthday was now, or tomorrow, or in a few hours, and I was determined to set the rest of this Holiday right. I was determined to push tonight out of my mind, because...it hurt, in an unthawing sort of way. Bringing me out into the light. Showing me things I've been trying to pretend didn't exsist for years.

"_Lily, you are the only person I know who is intelligent enough to admit her flaws and faults, but stupid enough to push them away and ignore the fact she has any._"

James Potter had a way.

**abc.**


	13. Who We Are

**Chapter 13  
**"Who We Are"

**Reminder of the Pictures Described in Chapter Nine: **

The two of us were sitting on one of the logs, and James had his arm around my shoulder. I had one of my hands splayed against his chest, and looked as if I had been laughing when the picture was taken. He was looking straight at the camera, and it may have been the most flattering picture I had ever seen of him. It was dark behind us, but the flash from the camera, and the glow from the fire illuminated his face. Shadows were cast down at angles over his cheeks, and it was just that...that little bit of mystery protruding.

The last one was...was of James & I. Dance-twirling, or whatever he had done that night. I sucked in a sharp breath, and was astonished at how...nice I looked. Not physically, or anything. My hair didn't look incredible that night, and my eyelashes weren't curled to perfection, or anything...I just looked nice, and happy whilst being twirled by him. Safe.

_**

* * *

**_

There was something about the night that was slowly putting me to sleep, but keeping me awake because it felt so nice. The whole thing with my house being for sale was nothing I wanted to deal with, and sure burying it deep away until I'm forced to confront it, probably isn't the best way to handle things, but the Potter household was warm, and James could utter and apologie without having his ego bruised, his pride bursted, his head deflated, his stubborn streak stopped. He could apologize, and things quickly were thrust back to being normal, and I didn't have another second that night to think of how the day had made my head spin, and James and I had our first actual fight, and it was over like that. I didn't think about it while I was sitting there with his hands up my pant leg, and his voice as soothingly deep as it was.

He simply smiled when I wished him a Happy Birthday. It was, technically, the 21st of December, and he was, technically, 18 years old when midnight struck. He simply smiled, stood up, and we found ourselves in the kitchen satisfying some late-night/early-morning craving of cookies and milk.

* * *

At some point before two a.m. we parted ways, and he bade me a whispery goodnight in the middle of the hallway, before I turned to go to my temporary bedroom, and he to his own. 

My eyelids were begging to be closed, just as my lips decided they were dying to be kissed again. Sirius. I couldn't think of him. I couldn't ask myself what I wanted with him, whether I liked him or not, or it was pure physical attraction. Not even physical attraction. Just a boy to kiss at appropriate times, as if to teach me some sort of lesson, eventually. Sirius Black. A lesson in life, a lesson of not-quite-love, a lesson of lips, and how those lips should be kissed as properly as possible.

And with those lips in mind I fell asleep.

* * *

The most unbelievable feeling I had experienced thus far during Christmas Break, was feeling free. Free and sexy. 

I woke up at 8 a.m. that morning, and took a long, warm, shower, changing into a silky, strappy, hit-me-at-the-knees nightgown, as it was the quickest thing to grab. I didn't think anybody else was up this early, and that's one reason I didn't turn over and go back to sleep when I saw the clock. I wanted to be the only one up, awake, aware, _there_. I wanted the Potter's to disappear so I could work out the mess of things going on inside my head.

Before I left the bedroom I grabbed my robe and wrapped it around me, creeping over to James's bedroom, and listening outside of the door I could hear him softly snoring. I continued on my way over to the stairs, finding myself on the Potter's floor. Lexi's bedroom door was open, as was Mr & Mrs Potter's. I took a deep breath, and finished going down the stairs, to the entrance hall. There was nobody in the den, or living room, and the only option left was the kitchen.

And it was empty. Gloriously, quiet, and empty.

* * *

_James,_

_We're gone to your Uncle Mac's for the day. Brunch, dropping our presents off, etc. We didn't figure you'd want to go, what with Lily being here, and the pain in the ass your mother's been over her lately. So, here's your time alone, son. Use it wisely._

_Dad.

* * *

_

I raised my eyebrows as I read his father's note, and couldn't help but smirk slightly in some sort of twisted satisfaction. Mr Potter liked me, and I had that to be proud of. And this house was completely empty, except for a sleeping James and me. It was winter's solstice, and it was already a bright morning.

Frost covered the window panes, as the sun was far too weak this early to melt through it. But it gave the whole world a slightly hazy look, as I peered through the kitchen windows. This was what winter was meant to be. This was the winter we forgot about when we were yearning for July. This early-morning, December 21st was the winter I remembered from years gone by, and no events of the day before were going to keep me from giving James a Happy Birthday.

* * *

He wanted Breakfast. I remember him telling me that when he first invited me to his house for Christmas. Breakfast, he said simply, when I asked him what to get him for his Birthday. Could I cook, he asked. Yes, I said. Breakfast, and he smiled. 

So, that's what I was making at 8:30. I was making breakfast, without magic because I found it much easier. Bacon, scrambled eggs, pancakes, and coffee.

The kitchen smelled incredible, and soon the frost on the windows was clouded by the steam from my cooking, and boiling kettle, and this was what I imagined the Potter household to be from the start. Warm, smelling like breakfast, and inviting.

* * *

His loud, steady breathing was proof enough that he was still sleeping, as I pushed his bedroom door open with my shoulder, and went into the room. 

I set the tray down on the floor, and went over to the window, pulling the curtains back, and the blind up. The pale light poured in, and illuminated the dark room. Tying my robe tighter around my waist, I went over to pick the tray up again, but ended up catching a glance of his sleeping face.

He had one of those faces, that would hold the exact same characteristics when he's 40 that he has now. If he wrinkled it would just mature him further. If his forehead developed creases that were permanent, it would just give him that constant look of worry that would probably suit him. You knew his eyes would never lose what was so very theirs. Those lustrous hazel-green eyes that needed to be partially hidden by his glasses, because if they were not they would completely overwhelm you.

He looked innocent and naive with his eyes shut, and his lips slightly parted as he breathed through his mouth. He looked, almost, like an 8 year old version of himself. He was to remain sleeping until I woke him, because I had not known the 8 year old James, and I thought it was fair for me to get a glimpse of him, even if he was so very far away. But right now, at 8:30 in the morning, it looked like he'd wake up with his voice an octave or two higher, height somewhere in the 4 feet range, and those wide, startling eyes would posess that natural charm of his that wore off a bit as the years progressed.

I felt like I had missed out on half of my _own_ life, not having known James for all of his. I felt incomplete, and almost empty. Like I thought I knew him, but something would abruptly change, and I'd lose his friendship, all because I didn't know him when he was a boy.

I decided that that we were spending an excessive amount of time together and I may go insane if I tried to get through a day without wanting to talk to him or ask him questions. It was strange this was me realizing what a friendship was about. It was me realizing lots of friends were rarely apart and I was slowly forming that connection to James.

* * *

"Happy Birthday!" I exclaimed, as I saw him begin to stir, squinting against the sunlight pouring in his usually covered window. 

"Mrmph," He murmured, flopping over onto his stomach, reaching for his glasses, and thrusting them on. "It is my birthday the whole day. 8:30 wasn't necessary."

"Breakfast, remember. You wanted breakfast for a present." He offered me a tired grin, and rubbed at his eyes before actually seeing me and the tray of food.

"You're insane," James said through a yawn, and a rumple of his hair. "And true. I did ask for breakfast. But you look like you're going to put on a bit of a performance for me, too. Got anything on under the robe, Lil?" The cheeky grin that was on his face was enough to amuse me, and I just shook my head, trying to look incredulous, but failing to do so, as I smiled at him.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

* * *

He appreciated the breakfast way too much. The way his eyes seemed to light up as I situated the tray in front of him, while he leaned against the headboard. 

"You're too good to me, love." James grinned, before picking up his fork and digging into the scrambled eggs. Which, no, he didn't want any ketchup, salt, or pepper on. Just butter. And his pancakes no butter, just syrup. Way too much maple syrup. And he dipped his bacon in the left over maple syrup. And his coffee? No cream, but three spoonfuls of sugar.

I sat at the opposite end of the bed, with my feet stretched out near the pillows, watching him eat, and not even offer conversation.

"Your parents went to visit your Uncle Mac, according to a note found on the kitchen table."

"Oh, yeah. For Brunch. Aunt Mary can't cook nearly as good as you, though. Their daughter my cousin Jenn is pregnant. She's 25...ish, they'll probably be over later today,-"

"I have something else to give you." I said quickly, standing and leaving the bedroom, running over to the one I was staying in.

I pulled open the drawer on the nightstand, and pulled out two photographs that Bridget had given me. I didn't know whether to give them to him, I didn't know whether he had pushed the memories of that bonfire night away and completely forgot about how close we grew that night. But against all better judgement I grabbed the pictures up and quickly walked back to his bedroom.

* * *

"Pick a hand." I said to him something my father had done to me when I was younger holding each of them behind my back, as I stood at the edge of the bed. 

"You're scaring me," He said after setting his coffee down and cocking an eyebrow at me. "Uhm...The right one." He reached over and tapped my wrist, and I handed the picture of choice to him.

"Ah, wow," He grinned, and inspected the picture closely. I bit my lip, watching him. "Classic. Boy looking at camera, girl admiring boy. And why not? I'm just so damn admirable. I look good, don't I? No, but honestly. Thank you. You look...incredible, by the way."

When he looked up at me, I smiled a small, awkward smile, and kept my other hand behind my back.

"Can I see that one?" He asked, of course, when he noticed I didn't offer to show my hand, as it held the picture he had twirled me in.

"Mmm...No." James grinned, and leaned over the bed until he could reach my arm. He squeezed my wrist until it hurt slightly, and I threw the photo at him.

"Prat." I muttered, rubbing my red wrist, as he shrugged, and picked the picture up.

The grin he wore faded and was replaced with some sort of thoughtful look. Like he had forgotten about it for a moment, but then it came flooding back, and he was wondering _how_ he ever forgot the way he was that night. Something was different about him that night, and he was realizing that, it seemed.

"Oh," Was all I heard him say after a moment of peering to intently at the picture. "This...You should keep this one, yeah. You were happy that night." He handed the picture back to me, and I tucked it into the pocket of the robe.

"You didn't like that one?" I asked, smiling slightly, my eyes narrowed lightly as I studied him.

"No, no. I did. I did..." And that was all he offered me, before draining his mug of coffee, and eventually the conversation took a turn to something else.

And he had liked the picture. He liked it when it was taken, he liked that night, and he had to have liked the picture. I saw it when his grin faded and he looked at it, thoughtfully. You don't look at a picture thoughtfully if you don't like it. You don't look at it for as long as he did if you don't like it. I wasn't put out about it, or anything. Because it was a comfort to know he became as disoriented as me when he saw that dance-twirling picture.

* * *

It was something after 9, and I was settled back at the opposite end of the bed, arms folded and watching James enjoy reading the paper. 

"I've got to shower, I think," He stretched, yawned, twisted, turned, scrunched his nose up, and finally grinned at me. "I'll be quick. Stay here, or whatever. You look tired."

He went through the door in his bedroom, into the connecting bedroom, and I leaned my head back, closing my eyes.

I felt guilty this morning. For enjoying the fact the Potter's were out, enjoying the fact I wasn't at home, enjoying the fact I'd never have to go back to that place. I figured it was some all-time low for a girl like me, not caring one way or another whether she spent any Holidays with her family, ever again. Was I the only one in the world who was horribly, selfishly, ragged-edged?

* * *

I heard the water in the bathroom turn on after only a minute, and I made myself comfortable properly on the bed, resting my head on the pillows. 

Apparently to occupy my mind when I'm bored, I become nosey. Or that's my excuse for this. To this day I say I just get nosey when things get awkward, or boring, or anything like that.

That's why when I noticed an edge of parchment sticking out from the drawer of James's nightstand, I pulled it open, flattened the parchment, and closed it again. But then I realized it was a rather long piece of parchment, and was wrenching the drawer open again.

My eyes scrolled down to the bottom not bothering to read any in between stuff where the person signed the obvious letter.

_' All the Best, James. Jo. '_

Jo. As in Jocelyn, with strawberry blonde hair, and side-swept bangs. His November 'til June, 6th year but she was in 7th, girlfriend. The one he thought he loved but actually didn't. The one who he didn't love, but might as well had, because she was important to him, and deflated his head a bit, and made him part of who he was. A letter from Jo.

* * *

I couldn't help but let my eyes wander back up the parchment, certain words popping out at me. Don't do it, Lily. That's invading priva...I didn't finish the thought.

* * *

_' Dear James,_

_It's hard to think it's only been a year since that disasterous birthday of yours. You said that would be the first and last time you ever invited a girl over to meet your Mum, friend, girlfriend, anything. Do you remember that? My God, she tried to give me that incredible, white dress. And I didn't know what to do. She'd scoff at me if I wouldn't accept it, but then call me selfish or something if I did. _

_So, have things improved on the girl front since then? Happy Almost 18th, by the way. It's a shame you weren't turning 18 this time last year. You and I? May have worked out, then. Sirius was always frightfully against us._

_Anyway, darling. I don't know why I mentioned that white dress, a year later. Perhaps because I'm sitting here in my bedroom seeing my own white dress, at this very moment. Yeah, I'm engaged to be married. Stupid of me, isn't it? Oh, but I love him, as strange as it is for me to admit it. A year ago I was just trying to be in love with you, and here I am actually in love, and getting married on January 1st. The dress just arrived today, and quite odd timing, seeming I decided to write to you today._

_Have you been in love yet, James? It's wonderful, once you get there. It's just the getting there thing that's the hardest. I suppose trying to get there is wonderful, itself, but trying to get there blinds you, and you don't realize it until you've gotten there. _

_His name is Josh. He comes from a good, pureblood, wizarding family. You won't believe how much those things matter now-a-days. I would've invited you to the wedding, had I thought you'd show up. Because honestly, darling, you wouldn't, would you? You're much too smart to go digging up the past._

_I just wanted to wish you Happy Holidays. You left me reeling, you know that. I refuse to believe you were born anything but a strong, broad-shouldered, man. Because even at 16 you were that. At 17 you were that. And at 18 I'm sure you will be that, and a whole lot more, once you find the right girl. God, James, just find the right girl, because if you do she will deserve you. She will be nothing but the best. And she'll have pretty eyes that you get lost in, because getting lost is something you've always counted on._

_All the Best, James. Jo.'

* * *

_

Pretty eyes and nothing but the best. That blue-eyed, year-older-than-him Jocelyn he talked of was getting married. She had fallen in love sometime after June with someone other than James. She was getting married. Just like that. She was good with words. Eloquent. You could tell that at the beginning of the letter, the way her words were scrawled out, and loopy. Mrs Potter hadn't liked her, either, it seemed. He said he'd never bring another girl home, and here I was. Sirius was against them. James was nothing but a strong, broad-shouldered man to her, when all I could see was a boy who was trying damn hard to keep his shoulders broad. Why couldn't I look at James, and see more than that boyish visage of him.

I felt as if I was being unfair to him. Being a best friend, but not seeing him as man. Or anything more than that best friend. He was good-looking, but was considered nothing sexual to me,-

And then the bathroom door opened, there was a flurry of steam, and I could almost feel it meet my face. James Potter stood with a towel at his waist, and blinking water droplets from his eyes.

His glasses were fogged for a moment, but they unfogged quickly, and he saw me sitting on his bed, with Jocelyn's letter still in my hand.

And I would've been gaping had my mind took the time to register and actually see the towel-clad James, but I snapped into panic mode, and flew my hand around to the drawer, going to shove it back in.

"What do you have?" He asked, curiously, but in a way that told me he already knew.

"Um, I was just...I saw it sticking from the drawer, and went to shove it back in, and,-"

"Read it? Jocelyn's letter, right? You read it?"

"No, James, I,-"

"Lily!" He exclaimed, interrupting me, and raising his eyebrows high. "Just _tell_ me. Did you read it?"

I pursed my lips, thinking for a moment, and shuddered a response. "Yes."

While I was reading it I never thought that I shouldn't have. I never thought to stop reading it, and put it back, and _respect his privacy_. I read it. I was that curious about his past, about that part I didn't know, about Jocelyn, the girl who had him but let him get away. I was that painfully curious that I forgot who James was for an instant. I forgot who we were, and how we were. He had let me in. I had made my way into James's life, and I knew it was a fragile ground to be upon. I knew I could fuck things up, simply by trying to dig too deep, and invade too much. But I had read that letter from that girl who had meant so much to him, and I had gone somewhere that was so completely James's, and I was petrified in that moment I had ruined things just like that. If James had wanted to talk to me more about Jocelyn, or tell me she wrote he would've. But I didn't give it a chance for that to happen. I felt completely exposed, and he was the one standing there in the towel, with water droplets sliding down his neck, shoulders, chest, and down to somewhere my mind had not yet wandered to. A fit boy in a towel, and I couldn't look at any detail, I couldn't see him.

"Satisfied, now? Pried far enough, have you? I forgot clothes." He pulled a drawer open on his dresser with one hand, and with the other he held the towel together. He yanked a couple of things out, glared at me over his shoulder, and slammed the door to the bathroom.

I was too startled over being caught, or whatever, that I hadn't been able to form any sort of apologie, and my mind spun as I left his bedroom, carrying the breakfast tray. And as tense potentially horrible as things had become in a split second, I couldn't stop repeating lines from Jocelyn's letter in my head. And I liked to think I had pretty eyes that a boy could get lost in.

**

* * *

**

That afternoon after I had taken to cleaning up my mess in the kitchen the whole morning, and then falling back to sleep when I surrendered to my room I sat at the vanity in the room that was mine for the Holidays, and stared at my reflection, with my hair tied up into a loose ponytail.

My neck felt cold, I realized, as I dug through my makeup bag in search of my mascara. I couldn't recall the last time I wore my hair in a ponytail, and I kept putting both of my hands on my neck, touching the revealed skin.

* * *

I hadn't spoken to James since that morning and I was wondering if I ever _could_ speak to him again. I was lucky that we had gotten back onto speaking terms the night before, even though there was still something not quite right with him. And then I go do something as simple as read a letter, not thinking the result would be this. Not thinking the aftermath would be something as dramatic as this. 

Sighing, I brushed the mascara onto my eyelashes, trying to prevent it from clumping as I did so. I didn't like to wear a lot of makeup, but mascara was almost a necessity. It just made a girls' eyes look wider, but in a delicate way. It offered a sense of divulgence, letting people see your eyes at their absolute best, at their brightest, and nicest, and your eyes could be the beginning of something.

I was staring at the length of my lashes when a knock came to the closed door and brought me from my reverie of thoughts.

Still being in my nightgown and robe, I tied it together, and went to the door, taking a deep breath, preparing to face James Potter.

* * *

But it was Remus. He wore a pair of dark jeans, and an navy-blue, half-zip, sweater. 

"Hi," I said breathily, almost overjoyed to see the hostile Marauder who had not yet decided whether or not he liked me. He was a comfort compared to who I had been expecting. "What are you doing here?"

"James's birthday. We're required to be here," We. That means Sirius wasn't far off. "Can I come in?" I looked into the bedroom, and shrugged.

"I guess so, sure."

"Good," Remus stepped by me, looking around the bedroom. "You look nice, by the way."

I raised my eyebrows, and shut the bedroom door behind me. "You didn't even_ look _at me, Remus."

He turned around from where he was in the middle of the bedroom, and looked me up and down. Realizing I was in a nightgown beneath the robe, he grinned.

"You look even better, then."

* * *

Remus went over and sprawled out on my bed, putting his hands behind his head, and sighed contentedly. Compared to the last one-on-one encounter that I had with the Marauder he looked happy. Tufts of his hair were sticking up, and the blue of his eyes was almost startling to me, after a day and a half of seeing nothing but James's intense hazel. The colour of his skin wasn't as golden or divine in the dark of my bedroom, but at least there weren't any bags beneath his eyes, or wrinkles tugging at his skin. He looked like he had gotten a full night's sleep, and done nothing but lounge about for a whole day. 

"So James what's wrong with him? He was in the kitchen slamming things about when we got here."

"Oh," I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, folding my arms across my chest. "That's why you're here, is it? To find out what I screwed up this time, yeah?"

Remus moved his eyes from the ceiling and met my own, and his gaze was as cold as my words had been. And when he shrugged his not-so broad shoulders, I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Pretty much, yes." I _hated_ how he could be so casual when situations were as nerve-wracking as this. I hated how he could shrug and be a cold-hearted bastard, but _look so good_.

"Fuck you, Remus."

"No thank you, Lily. I can think of two other's who might be willing, though." He rolled his eyes, and sighed heavily, sitting up next to me.

"You're such a bastard," I murmured, straightening my back, and squaring my shoulders, glaring down at the floor. "Just because you don't like me, you don't like that James and me are friends, and you don't like that Sirius likes me doesn't mean you have to be so god damn immature if there's the _slightest_,-"

"The slightest what? Please, continue. Because I'd sure as Hell like to know what went on this time." Remus interrupted, folding his arms like my own were folded, and setting his jaw.

"I read a 'happy birthday' letter from Jocelyn without his permission. Now _get out_." I ground out, my teeth clenched together, and my hands at my sides as I stood in unison with Remus.

My robe had come untied at some point during his short visit, and when I stood it gave a good view of the not-much-room-for-imagination nightgown I wore. Remus glanced this on the way out, and raised his eyebrows in some sort of cynical approvement.

I flung the door open, and pushed him hard on the back through it, just as Sirius came into view at the end of the hall, having just ascended the stairs.

Both Remus and I fell short in our steps, and I quickly snatched my hand off of his back. Sirius kept coming towards us, shoving his hands into his pockets, and observing the situation with a creased forehead.

Remus leaving the bedroom with me in a nightgown, my robe untied, and my loose ponytail probably giving off the idea that it had become loose for a reason.

"Am I interrupting something?" Sirius asked, all blasé and handsome.

I said nothing as Remus smirked at Sirius, and then looked to me. Putting a hand on my forehead, and brushing stray hairs away, I shook my head, mouthed wordlessly, and went back into the bedroom, slamming the door shut, and leaning against it, breathing hard.

This was not Christmas, this was not how it was supposed to be, this was not working, this wasn't right, I shouldn't've started a _damn thing_ with any of them...

* * *

It had to be at least three minutes until there was a soft sound against the door, and my eyes fluttered open. I held my breath, and listened again, thinking it was a knock, but the sound never came again. 

Curious, I went to pull the door open, and when I did I found Sirius had been pressed against it. He didn't fall flat on his back when I opened the door, it was much like he was expecting it, and held himself up.

"I was just joking, when I asked if I was interrupting. Hell, I wouldn't think you'd somehow get involved with all,-"

"Sirius, honestly. You don't know how tired I am of confrontations," I muttered, throwing a hand to my forehead, and then offering the same one to him. He got to his feet, tugging my hand slightly, and then straightened his tshirt. "Talking, feeling, _the marauders_. I'm tired of all that." Sirius grinned rather sheepishly at me, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"I'm sorry," He said, and I leaned against the edge of the half-open door, looking at him wearily. "James putting you through Hell?" And I had to laugh at how completely opposite him and Remus were. Remus accused me of messing something up, and Sirius put the blame on his best friend.

"Come in here." I grabbed onto his wrist, and tugged him inside the room, shutting the door once again.

* * *

And there he was. The Sirius who I became so unbelievably overwhelmed by. The one who I saw in dark corners of a hallway, and the one whose kisses were my first. The one who was so dark, and had grey-blue eyes, and thick, brown hair. He wasn't tall enough, but he was for me. He was too charming, but pulled it off, and I wondered if he was capable of being anything but alive. You know, sad, depressed, upset. I wondered if he was ever any of those things, because if he was I'd want to see it. I'd want to see his eyes anything but brilliant, and I'd want to see his hair anything but perfect, and I'd want to hear his voice anything but cool and deep. He was rugged and completely sure of himself, but honestly there was so much more to him that I hadn't had a chance to realize. 

His eyes looking like they were right now, and his face completely clean shaven, it was when I forgot how things were supposed to happen, and I forgot that what Sirius and I were doing was so irresponsible, and risky And I just wanted to kiss him, and find the boy who could take all of my thoughts away, whether or not that was good.

* * *

Sirius stepped closer to me, and the room was only lit by a dim lamp, so there were some shadows playing around his feaures and making his expression hard to decipher. It could've been passionate and wanton, or it could've been dark and infuriated. Two very different expressions, but it didn't much matter, because with Sirius Black they both led to the same thing. 

And that's when I found the robe slipping from my shoulders as I was desperately yet gently pushed against the door, by him.

"Why the Hell are you wearing this?" He murmured rhetorically, referring to the nightgown I was wearing, as his hands ran over the silky material of it, up and down my sides.

If I had felt exposed earlier wearing the gown under a robe I certainly felt exposed now, with Sirius pressed against me, and me pressed against a door. Such a classic move. I felt like I had walked onto the set of some sex-filled, romantic movie, and I didn't much enjoy the thought of that.

He kissed me after a few moments of just seeming to be mezmerized by my _skin_. It was indescribable, being touched like that. His hands were on the small of my back, and then running down my arms, and then skimming the hem of the nightgown - running over my legs, and then massaging the back of my neck to calm me before he kissed me, because my breathing was so damn rapid that he probably thought I was going to have a heart attack before he _could._

His kiss was soft and left me burning, but he pulled back before I could do anything to satisfy that. One of his legs was pressed somewhere between my own, and his other leg was on the other side of my left leg. He had me pinned quite well, and when he pulled away there was something besides the heavy feeling of our sudden desire hanging in the air.

Sirius's mouth was nearly touching my ear, and I swore if he kissed it I would die...

But that thought of melting at ear-kisses was quickly gone, as he spoke in a harsh whisper instead of doing any kissing.

"I hope to God you don't trust Remus with anything, because he was kind enough to inform me of all the hiding that's been going on the past few weeks," A memory of me laying in James's bed, and then an Invisibility Cloak being thrown over me to keep me hidden from Sirius popped into my mind. A memory of wanting to keep James & me strictly between _James and me_ because he was so incredibly mine at times, and not let Sirius know that.

"It's not like it's that big of a deal, you being in James's bed that night. The big deal is you _all three of you _chose to hide it from me, like I was some kind of sadistic maniac who was liable to murder somebody if I saw you in his bed. I don't know why you have to hide anything James-related from me, I don't know why you think that's going to get _us_ anywhere, being a twisted little bit,-" His lips brushed against my ear, and I gasped at the contrast of his warm lips and of the blistering, cold words he was breathing at me. I swore something hit me hard as the realization hit me. When the hiding was being done I didn't think it was a big deal. I swore I didn't care if Sirius found anything out. They weren't secrets. Words shared between Remus and me weren't secrets, or James and me I didn't care then.

But I cared now. Remus had warned me, had told me of how cool and casual Sirius was when he was angry. And here he was, whispering in my ear so shrewdly after making me think I had drove him into some uncontrollable state of want. He had made me think he wanted me, that he wanted to kiss me, and make me feel things that nobody had before. He had been so pressed against me, and so close All with startlingly hellish intentions.

* * *

Sirius didn't finish his words, because I had gasped, and then pushed him away from me, staring at him with my chest heaving slightly as I struggled to breathe normally, and not let him know just how breathless he had left me before turning it all upside down. 

He, himself, was taking heavier breaths than usual, and I swore his eyes had darkened to almost black. Or at least from where he was standing they looked almost black. The shadows crept down his face from his fringe, casting a shade over his eyes _and I swear they were almost black, penetratingly cold._

"Leave." Was all I could choke out, my eyes unbelievably wide, and he knew it.

He offered me no words as he brushed by me, he didn't offer my still-rising chest a glance Sirius Black just left like I told him to, knowing his words...struck me hard.

I was in...in disbelief. I couldn't.

* * *

The amount of times I said it, I don't think I could count on both of my hands. The number of times I pleaded with him and received nothing but a pity smile, I could not tell you. The sum of all times that I had been as pathetic as I am capable of being, with my lips as pouted as they are capable of being, I couldn't clarify unless I sat down and thought about it for a few days. 

I was always asking him to get away. _Escape_, was my word for it. Let's escape. Tonight, you know, we could get out of here. Find our place, because we must have one. Let's just leave it all behind, please. Please.

James wasn't one for it, though. Practically from the beginning of anything him & I related, I had wanted to leave with him. It didn't matter what we were, as long as we were that together. As long as I could let everything go, and be as free as I was never allowed to be. He kept me grounded and I'd hate him for it at the time, and a minute later realize how unbelievably crazy I had been to think we could do whatever it had been that I wanted to that time.

Let's go, James. Let's just leave them. Why, don't you ever want to sometimes.

* * *

I kept my distance from everyone until about seven o'clock. I didn't know where the day had gone, and it left me feeling empty. 

James's Aunt, Uncle, and cousin were there. Mac, Mary, and Jenn. Jenn's husband was with his family and would join her for the Holidays on the 24th. And Jenn was very pregnant, I think Mr Potter had said that, on first observation of his niece by marriage for the first time in a few months. 8 months pregnant to be exact, Uncle Jude - she had replied with a cheeky smile.

Apparently dinner was unofficial that night, as there was a tray of sandwiches in the living room with the socialites, and a pan with half of a pizza on top the stove in the kitchen. When I came downstairs, after cowering in my room since the visits from two Marauders, I went straight for the kitchen, passing the living room, undetected. Since I had only had toast the whole day, I had a piece of cold pizza, and a glass of milk anything to keep me in that kitchen.

But then there was Remus and his apparent thirst for water, and so my leaning against the edge of the counter with folded arms was interrupted by the sandy-haired arsehole.

* * *

"Lily." He greeted with a nod as he entered the kitchen, and took a glass from the cupboard. 

"Do you just want everybody to be as unhappy as you? You must. Telling Sirius there was _stuff being hidden_ was unbelievably unnecessary."

"I'm not unhappy, Lily," Remus said easily, leaning against the counter like I was, and taking a few gulps of the water, before dumping the rest down the sink. "It's funny how the two of us work. I like to think _you're_ the one who wants to make everyone as unhappy as yourself."

I sighed, and pushed my hair from my face, feeling like if I couldn't come out of this test with Remus alive then I wouldn't make it through anything. Because Remus was not going to matter to me, there was no reason for him to. If I could just prove myself to him, or lower his level of confidence I don't know, then maybe I'd be able to get through something with the other two.

"You hid me from him. You threw the bloody invisibility cloak over me, and pushed me out of the room. I didn't ask you to. I'm not entirely sure why you did it. Why you had to tell him that I don't...That I don't go into detail about James when I'm with him. Why should I? You've confused the Hell out of me. First you're watching out for me. Second you're telling me not to hurt Sirius because he won't be hurt, and then you're hugging me. And _now_? Is this all because you don't trust me, and don't want them to trust me? If you have a good reason to go around saying a load of shit, and sabotaging any chance I'd have with Sirius, then by all _fucking_ means, I'd like to hear it, Remus." I had pushed myself off from the counter and stood directly in front of him, so that he couldn't move from the counter without pushing me out of the way.

The sandy-haired Marauder gripped my upper arms, and stared down at me with all the intensity either of us could handle. It hurt so bad not to blink as I challenged him.

_That's who he was_. He was a challenge. _The_ challenge. He was impossible, and ever-changing, and made my mind spin when I'd see him from far away, all golden and god-like, and then he'd be so close to me and I'd want to slap him, wipe the smirk off of his all-knowing face.

"So you want something with Sirius, then? You really, honestly, do?"

I pressed my lips together as he asked his quietly, not releasing my arms. "I did. I thought I did. I at least wanted to _get to know him_. But now that he thinks,-"

"It won't _matter_ what he thinks, or what I told him. None of that matters. If Sirius _knows_ that you want something with him, that James isn't the number one priority in your life, that you're not going to blow Sirius off for James It won't matter! He doesn't know that. He doesn't know you _want_ something with him. He doesn't know that you're not in love with James or something,-"

"You just told Sirius I was hiding stuff because you thought I was just fucking around with him and didn't...want anything?" I tilted my head, and maybe just maybe if I peered far enough into those stormy blues...

"I swear it to God, to look at you when you're around James..." Remus trailed off, as I had trailed my thoughts off, and I nodded.

"What? To look at me when I'm around James, _what?_"

Remus swallowed, and nodded his head once. "You just haven't offered Sirius a smile like that yet. You haven't looked that..."

"Happy." I finished for him, in a choked voice, and he nodded again.

"Yeah. _Happy_. And I don't know, but maybe you haven't had enough time to..._Be_ happy with Sirius. Maybe you've not gotten there yet, and I understand that. But God, _James _and you are so..." Tears welled in my eyes briefly, and I blinked excessively, soothing the stinging of them.

"James and I are so what? So not talking," I laughed, and probably in a bitter, resentful way. "So different? So _wrong_? Jesus, Remus, if you ever get the urge to spill to Sirius again, let him know that. Let him know that James and I are absolutely _nothing_. And he, Sirius, just has to _let_ me be something to him. And I will, I swear I will," I sighed, and Remus's hands let go of my arms, his own falling to his sides. "Happy Holidays, mmm?" I turned to go, as Remus shoved his hands into his pockets, and arched his shoulders, staring down at the floor.

"James'll get over it. Sirius, probably already has. And I guess I could talk to him or something. Don't say you and James are nothing, because that nothing is the only best friend you got." Remus left the kitchen first, which almost left me staggering, and on the way out he squeezed my shoulder reassuringly.

I had broke him, and it felt rather good, but in a mind-boggling way. I just couldn't understand that boy, or why he was so unsure of me. We didn't need anything _ohmygodintense_, we just needed to know that the two of us would have to learn to trust, like, care for one another, if we were going to be...Sharing friends. We could be friends, ourselves, if he'd just stop blocking the world out. It's who he is. The world's much easier to handle when it's on the other side of a line. When you're there, with your friends, and the world's there, facing you down. I guess...I probably turned that world upside down, and he had nothing too stable. His friends were crossing that line over to where the world was, and once you cross that line, _let people in_, everything could be destroyed. I was learning that lesson myself.

* * *

8 o'clock somehow rolled around and I stared at the clock for a good minute to make sure my mind recgonized that. 8 o'clock. The day had come and was going, and it was 8 o'clock. The hour when everything died down or started up. On weekdays it's when you were settling in, finishing your work, getting comfortable, feeling relaxed. On weekends it's when you were dolling yourself up, hanging out with friends, or just beginning your evening of doing nothing. I was in love with that hour, with how it looked, felt and on certain evenings even _smelled_. 

The moon and stars were just getting acquainted and comfortable with one another, and any fragment of sunset was gone, leaving a navy sky with glittering silver, or just a black canvas on particularly dark nights. Any internal battles you were having with yourself throughout the day were likely to have had come to an end, and you could feel at peace for just that one hour. I felt beautiful at 8 o'clock. And on December 21st? 8 o'clock smelled like ginger and the faint trace of a crackling fire. It smelled like _home_, and I was startled to find myself nearly believing that _my_ home had actually been like that. Actually smelled that warm and enticing. But no, not _my_ home Just any home. It's how home is _meant_ to smell.

There was a point, I guess, before 8 o'clock, that Sirius & Remus left for the Lupin residence, declaring an early morning tomororw. I was standing out in the hallway, near the wall, listening to them in the living room, biting my thumb nail and so badly wanting to find myself part of that. Someday.

"You boys can Floo from the fireplace in my Study." I heard Mr Potter say, and Sirius as if a grin were upon his face say "yes sir".

They said their goodnight's, wished a final happy birthday to James, and I assumed they left the living room, and went through into the study, that was just off the living room.

I held my breath for a moment as there was nothing but absolute quiet in the living room, and when somebody started talking again I slowly released the breath, finding myself pressed nearly flat against the wall.

There was no way in Hell I could stay out of the way much longer. There was no way in Hell Mrs Potter was going to like me more if I kept away from her family, and was a distant little bitch.

But there was also no way in Hell that I could go in there and face James without some sort of break down.

* * *

Stepping as gracefully and tentatively, as a girl as broken and emotional as me could into the living room, I looked around the dimly lit living room. Warmly lit. A tall, single lamp, and the dancing glow of the fire. 

Jenn was laying down on the couch, with both of her hands on her ever-protruding stomach, seeming to be faintly listening to the conversation being carried on by her Mum and Aunt. Mrs Potter, and her sister-in-law were sitting on a shorter sofa, situated on the farthest left side of the living room, so that it looked over the rest of the room. So, it was no mistake when Mrs Potter's eyes flickered to me from her spot on the couch when I stepped into the room. Mr Potter and Mac could be heard laughing, probably as they poured themselves a drink, from Mr Potter's study. I felt awkward standing there, but there was no where else to sit, unless I joined Mrs Potter & Mary on the couch, which was not going to happen.

And there was James. Sitting in a reclining armchair, that was against the wall that the doorway to the room was on, so that when I first came in I didn't even see the chair out of the corner of my eye.

Jenn offered me a smile even though I had not spoken a word to her and I returned it. Mrs Potter and James's Aunt Mary went on talking with no acknowledgement towards me, except for that once.

My arms at my sides, and my lips pursed into an almost-pout, I turned to James, all basked in the shadows of the room.

I shook my head slightly, just to silently ask what there was I could say, or if me standing there in front of him would mean anything. He looked up at me almost lazily, and in an uninterested fashion. I pushed my lips out to the point where they felt as if they were about to overrun with words that I had not intended for them to. Just there, at the tip of my tongue, and the base of my lips were a thousand words I was subconciously willing to throw at the 18 year old boy.

As I went to open my mouth he extended an arm, and gestured to me.

"There's room for two." He muttered quiet enough for nobody else to hear.

I tilted my head slightly and pressed my lips hard together as he brought his arm back and folded them about his chest.

My eyes were wide and perhaps expectant as I moved towards the chair, while he brought it to an upright, sitting position with a tug of the handle on the side. The footrest lowered and the back of the chair sat straight, as he scooted over closer to the right arm of the chair, making room for me.

He didn't seem to pay attention to me as I sat down to the left of him, as his gaze was focused intently on the television, and not on me.

I situated myself, so very close to this boy despite the size of the chair, and when I quit moving he moved the handle again, and the footrest came up, as the chair went back. He stretched his feet out on the rest, and his head was against a crook in the corner of the chair's cushion, acting as a pillow.

Not knowing just how comfortable I was to get, or just _why_ I was sharing a chair with him, I struggled to stay sitting up straight.

When I felt his fingers tracing over my wrist though, I almost automatically leaned back into a half-laying down position like he was. Unlike earlier that day, when he had squeezed my wrist until I showed him the other picture this was done in a endearing, comforting sort of way. I stared straight ahead, shutting my eyes briefly when my head came to touch against the back of the chair, and I lay my feet on the footrest alongside his.

His mezmerizing touch was gone almost as soon as it had come something like most of James Potter and his characteristics and I held my breath only for a moment, listening to Mrs Potter and Mary continue their conversation as if these two teenages didn't exist. As if we didn't exist.

* * *

It could've been a lifetime, it could've been five minutes. It could've meant the world, it could've meant nothing. That undeniable warmth radiating off of him could've been a blaze of fury, or a blaze of appreciation. This could've been sweet surrender. This could've been a bittersweet end. This could be the beginning of something I had not intended to begin. This could be James Potter in love. This could be James Potter in hate. This could have been _so_ many things. What a time for me to be absolutely blind. What a time for me to be eighteen and so, so stupid. 

And I would have given _so much_ for it to just stay like this. Stay something, but nothing at the same time. On the edge of more, but not there yet, so sharing a chair didn't matter. I did not know what to say or how to say it.

When I felt his arm shift, though, everything seemed to whirl into my mind and take my breath for a moment. I twisted and turned until I was closer to him, with his arm around my shoulders.

Laying on my side, my face found itself pressed against the slight curve in his neck as he watched the television. His skin was warm, and he was clean shaven, and the scent of his soap and shampoo was still so very there. I took a deep breath that turned out shaky, and it was strange how I thought smelling him was too intimate. His neck looking so incredible was too intimate.

"James." I muttered, absolutely hopelessly, not knowing how this could get better or worse. How these moments could possibly turn into anything else. How there was anything left to say. How somewhere out there things were happening, changing, and shifting. And it was a hard-hit to think about how drastically things at home had changed. How I didn't belong there, here, or seemingly anywhere.

My half-hearted utter of his name did not go disregarded. His hazel-green eyes locked with my own and he looked positively serious. He didn't offer any words, he didn't question me, he just kept eye-contact until I first blinked, and then he followed suite. As if deciding actions, right now, would speak louder than words, he tightened his arm around me, and pulled me in closer, pressing his mouth and chin into my hair, and peered over the top of my head I assumed at his glancing Mum.

He offered me a heavy sigh that resulted in a puff of warm breath meeting the side of my face and ear, and I glanced up and to the side to see him out of the corner of my eye. Caught up in that moment I mistook him for a man. I glanced up, saw the side of his face, half of it disappearing behind my red waves, and I saw that mystery. I saw that mystery that James Potter was, and I saw it for everything it was. He was eighteen, and tonight he looked it. Tonight he seemed it. Tonight, unlike this morning when I read Jocelyn's letter, he seemed eighteen, and smooth, and something about him was fluent. It could've been the rather intriguing rythm of his breathing, or it could've been the way his face remained decidedly pensive, and the cleft just above his top lip seemed to protrude just a bit more, making him even more handsome.

But now wasn't the time for anybody to be handsome, or appealing, or what I needed. Because I didn't even know what I needed, and what I needed was susceptible to change. Like every aspect of every one of us was. Susceptible to change. We were seventeen, or eighteen, and it was December and we were all, oh, you know, immersed so deeply in our dramas that we were absolutely oblivious to the fact that _this couldn't be it._ None of us were going to work out the way we thought. And it's a shame we didn't know that before we went through everything we were going to.

* * *

Today had killed me in so many ways. And I swore, _swore_ it had to be past midnight. It can't've been only 8 o'clock in the evening. The shortest day of the year, _and the sun had been gone for hours_. It had set so fast I didn't get a chance to notice it. It was winter's god damn solstice possibly the most gorgeous day of the year in all of it's respectable frosty temperatures, James's birthday and here we were. Here _I_ was. Not even knowing why we bothered to break for Christmas. Once you were over fourteen it all changed. Everything changed. It didn't mean as much. I was eighteen, and practically a veteran to the Holiday scene, and I was hoping against some kind of false hope that it would be _magical_ and everything it hadn't been for years, but I didn't know. I didn't know how to feel like that again. I didn't know _who I was_. 

I was hurt, I think. I think I had good reason to be. I think I was too confused to feel anything but hurt. I had thrown myself out on the line, that line seperating the Marauders from the rest of us, and I had been exposed, and I had been _thwarted._ Any half-assed attempts I was going to have with any of them had been slowly destroyed, right before my eyes, _by_ them.

The sad thing was I thought my problems were the biggest ones in the world at the moment. Nothing could hurt, sting, _feel_ like this did. This abandonned, even if James was right here, too close. This alone, even if I had lied to myself and said they were my friends for the passed few months. Nothing could feel like this, I told myself. _Could it get any worse?_ My thoughts were petty and selfish and a part of me was begging James to stop them, the thoughts. To tell me there were lives that were being more messed up then our own. Because there were. There was so much he knew, and so much he wasn't telling me.

* * *

"So, am I a man today, Lily?" James asked quietly, a ghost of a grin playing across his delicious looking lips, and I quirked my own into a small smile, as he adjusted his head so he could look at me without inhaling my hair. 

"You're eighteen. Whatever that is to you, I guess." My hand came to rest on his upper arm, and he flinched slightly at the feel of my cold palms, but he didn't pull away.

"Eighteen could be anything. I mean...do you look at me and see anything more than a child?"

I sat up a bit, craning my neck around, and staring at him straight in the eye. Then my gaze flickered to his slightly long nose, and then to his lips, and then his neck, and I swallowed before answering.

"Right now...yes. And I suppose I could return the question. You know, am I a girl, am I a woman..." I trailed off, smiling slightly as I mussed my hair up something he would do.

"I think my answer would be more complicated than yours," He started quietly, taking his arm from around my shoulders and folding them behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. I tried to not dwell on my suddenly bare-feeling shoulders, and told myself that there was no sudden lack of warmth because his arm wasn't there. I could not need him, or find so much comfort in him, and I wouldn't.

"You are,-"

"_God_, no, James. You don't...have to give some speech on how I look like..."

"Shut up," He interrupted with a small smile, and I shook my head, letting him continue. "You've got this...innocent aspect to you. Your smile, I guess. Your skin is absolutely incredible. You look so unflawed. But then your eyes...They match that innocent persona to perfection, but you get one good look at them, and there's this...sudden whirl of emotions and it's like I'm seeing your world. It's like you're more of a woman than...so many I know, but because you appear so wide-eyed, it's more polite to look at you and say '_Yeah, she's a nice girl'_. So, I don't know, Lily Evans. You're a woman who's trying to be a girl, it seems." I tilted my head and looked at him seriously, waiting for him to look away from the ceiling and back at me.

"I'm not a nice girl, though. I'm just...not," I shrugged, and sat fully up, practically turning myself around so I was sitting backwards in the chair in order to face him. "I wish I was like you described me. _Open your eyes_, James. You can't trust me, you can't look at me without doubting me, you can't possibly believe I am all wide-eyed and innocent. Don't talk like that just because you're trying to keep me from..."

"Hurting so much?" He offered swiftly, his tone of voice almost icily smooth.

And just then I couldn't quite pull my eyes away from him, and I did feel very much wide-eyed.

I was afraid for one blinding moment before the words spilled out. I couldn't stop them. This was quite truthfully the beginning of that cycle. Ask him, Lily, escape.

"Let's leave," His eyebrows rose as thses words simply tumbled out. "Let's just go. Away from here. Anywhere."

"You want to run. From..."

"Everything. Everything but you. Just you and I. We could do it, it could be perfect. We need to get to know one another, get inside the others' head,-"

Before I could go on, the chair was in the upright position, and he took me by the crook of my elbow and pulled me from the room with a cease of conversation from the other three occupants of that room and into the hallway, out of sight.

"Stop it." He said gently, yet firmly.

"Come _on_. Let's just go. It would be so amazing..."

His hands flew to his hair, and he looked at me incredulously. "You're taking it all. You're becoming everything I wanted to be. You're the one who messes up, you're the one who looks good, you're the one who stablizes this friendship, and now you're the one with the crazy, teenage ideas that _I'm supposed to have. _We're not. We're not leaving here. You're not running. We don't need to be inside each others' heads more than we already are. Finishing sentences for _christ's sake_, Lily. Don't do this. _Don't do _this."

I nodded, and any sudden glow and heat about me had drained and I was feeling stupid as his hands came to grip my upper arms like Remus's had not long before.

And this time I offered what I should have been.

"I'm sorry." As hoarse as it was, it was there.

* * *

And as hoarse as we were, we were there. We weren't broken, but could have been. 

He was too good to me, and the day was going to draw to a close whether he forgave me or not. Whether he'd let me ask the hundreds of questions I wanted to ask about him and Jocelyn and I was trying to tell my mind that the sex question wouldn't be the best one to first throw out.

And I was trying to tell my mind that worrying about whatever was going on out there in that world of magic would get me no where. James would tell me, and for some reason I wasn't near happy with my faith in him. I didn't want to know anything that would...make me older than I needed to be. I didn't want to be one of those. I didn't want our world to change drastically yet.

It would, though. It would.

**abc.**


	14. Death on a Window Ledge

**Chapter 14  
**"Death on a Window Ledge"

**(Btw--They're still standing in the hallway, after Lily's begged him to 'escape' and then apologized.)**

James looked at me with a clenched jaw for one impossible second. Then a muscle twitched in that clenched jaw, and he swallowed before offering me a small nod. That insignificant, slight inclination of his head was...what I needed. The permission I needed to continue on with my apology. To subdue my insanity for the moment.

"I feel as if I've missed out on too much to consider myself a part of your life. I just thought maybe reading the letter would give me some sort of half-assed insight into _you_. She knew you, she was with you -- Maybe reading it I'd discover if you were real. I know, curiousity doesn't excuse me reading the letter, I just...Felt insane because I didn't know...you forever. I _want_ to know you that well, but I don't know if I have any right to,-"

"Come with me."

**--**

His eyes burned hazel, and then he was taking my hand, and we were running. Up stairs, through hallways, up more stairs, through another hallway, up a last set of stairs, halfway down another hallway, turn to the left, and through a large doorway. We finally stopped, he let go of my hand, and I looked around the large room I hadn't been yet.

Somehow, and of course, we ended up on the 4th floor of the house, the one I hadn't yet taken the chance to explore. It was dark in this particular room, given the time of night and the lack of lighting, but I could make out how empty it was. How the floor was wood, and was like some even, expanse that had been waxed and polished once, forgotten about, and never walked over again. The room was huge, seemingly empty, and had one large window on the wall to the right of the doorway. There was a ruby, red, rug in the middle of the room, and on top of that rug was a black piano. The cover was down over the keys, and the whole thing seemed to shine eerily in the pouring moonlight.

James had been bent over while he caught his breath and I looked around. Then he stood straight, and I turned and met his stare with a perplexed one of my own.

There was something unsettling about how he looked so...dark, and his facial expression so set, and hard. The speed at which his chest was rising and falling had slowed, but it was still protruding a bit more with each breath, and it made his shoulders seem somewhat more broad, and him seem even taller. He looked stubborn, and slightly frustrated, as there was a small crease in his forehead from his frown.

"What is it?"

He shook his head, taking a step around me, in the direction of the window.

"Nothing."

I scoffed, turning around to follow him.

"Obviously it's something. You drag me up here," I paused to look around the room, in which our voices seemed to echo loudly. "Didn't let me finish talking. And now you're looking at me like I'm some kind of..."

"Lost, lonely, little girl." James finished my sentence that was not to _be_ finished. I didn't know exactly what he was looking at me like. It was just one of those times you trailed off a sentence, leaving the imagination open to wander and to consider just _what_ exactly he was looking at me like. But, no. He finished it.

And the look on his face when he finished it was...Demeaning. I felt as if I'd never live up to any expectations he may or may not have for me. I felt as if I was suddenly apparent to him. Like he was just seeing me for the first time.

"You talk like that's the worst thing in the world I could be," I murmured, putting a hand to my warm forehead. "I don't know, James. There are times when you are so _undeniably_ _mine_. I read the letter. I'm an idiot. I said I was sorry. I just needed...some reassurance that you _were_,-"

"So...undeniably...yours." James's lips hardly seemed to move, but were doing so **-- **so hardly -- that they looked so lovely and embellished

"God, just,-" I turned on my heel, prepared to leave the room without even knowing why he brought me here in the first place, but then he was walking towards the window again, and made a quick gesture for me to follow.

I, of course, did. As cold as he had suddenly turned I couldn't resist the little bit of mischevious mystery there seemed to be about him right now, all washed in moonlight, and looking faded, but so inammissible.

Neither of us said another word, and I asked no questions as he climbed up onto the cushioned window seat beneath the window, and the length of it. The window was long, and wide, and you could pull each side of it open seperately with a twist of the handles that were on each side.

**--**

I had hardly realized what he was doing before he had done it. Before he was out there, standing on the window's ledge, looking down.

"Come up here." He said quietly to me, as I stood on the cushion of the window seat, looking up the short space to him.

James grabbed onto my hand, and helped me up onto the ledge.

This was insane, we were so far up, the ledge wasn't that wide, I could fall! I could fall, I could die, and...

"This is...incredible." I whispered, as James's hand left my own, and he gripped the side of the window frame, looking out over the rooftops, and everything else we could see.

"Just listen, Lily," He muttered after a moment, and I held my breath, listening hard. There were no sounds coming from the room behind us, we couldn't hear anything else in the house. He was breathing quiet, and we were both standing as still as anything. The night was cold, too cold for snow, too cold for a wind to muster up. Nothing moved. The blanket of snow was thin, and seemed a world away as I looked down at the ground, that seemed to be shimmering due to the near-full moon. There were no lights on to the house next door, there were cars along nearby streets and highways, but you couldn't hear the traffic **-- **It was just so quiet. "Listen to it. There's _nothing_. There's you," He stopped speaking and things became quiet for one second, again, as if to remind me what there wasn't any of. No _sound_. "There's me. And this is..._untouchable_."

I got caught up in his words, and watching the river of cars' tail lights drift on and away from this one window in London. Drift away from us.

The city lights weren't far off, but far enough that you could look at them admiringly, rather than hate them with some passion, because here you weren't thrown into the mix of a city that never sleeps. Where street lights and flashing signs seem to never go out. Where people don't rest because their minds are too full, and caffeine has become more important to them than breathing itself. Here, in this rich little suburb...It was peaceful. It was full of big houses and neighbours who didn't know one another, and it was so quiet at night you could probably go walking down the middle of the street without having to worry of any cars. And from here all of the misfortunes of everyone else seemed so far off, and you forgot just how the city could chew you up and spit you out --You forgot all of that, and you just saw the city lights, and they looked like beautiful, illuminating, fireflies of winter, lighting the way for the ones who were lost.

I think standing here, realizing this was, in fact, _untouchable_, and seeing the world like James apparently had seen it many times before -- It was more magical than anything I had seen at Hogwarts.

How cold it was didn't seem to reach us up here. Nothing did. Nothing penetrated too deeply, and the only reason I shivered was when I saw how frosty white my breath was floating up to the midnight-navy sky.

Sooner or later, not really paying much attention to how long we had been standing on the edge of either the beginning of our lives or our deaths** -- **I saw that James's expression softened a bit, and you knew he really loved this, because his eyes were _burning_.

And, well, I fell in love with something that night amongst the frosty air, and winter at it's finest.

_-_

"Why did you want to leave, Lily." I faintly heard him ask, and I finally blinked, turning my head slightly to see him with folded arms, and leaning against the frame of the large window.

"I said I was sorry." I answered quickly, looking away from hin.

"You were apologizing for that, then? For wanting to leave? I could've swore you had been apologizing for reading Jocelyn's letter,-"

"Well, I was,-"

"Exactly. You were apologizing for reading Jocelyn's letter, you explained why you read Jocelyn's letter. You didn't explain why you wanted to leave. You didn't go there, you ignored it like you hadn't just had some sort of break down, _pleading_ with me to leave."

I scoffed, and felt my nose sting with how cold it was getting. "Get over yourself, I wasn't pleading with,-"

"_Yes you were_," James interrupted me and there was a sense of finality in the air, no more interrupting, no arguing with him, because yes I had. I had pleaded with him in a moment of temporary insane weakness, and if I could go back and keep myself composed **-- **I would've. "What is it about here that you hate so much that you wanted to leave?"

My gaze was unblinking and my eyes had began to water, but as I sank into an unintentional moment of thought the watering ceased, and it was as if I wasn't seeing that magical night sky at all anymore. I was just seeing days gone by, and trying to place what it was I hated so much. What I hated about all of this, any of this.

I sighed, and blinked excessively after a moment. "It's not so much...what I hate about here...There's nothing I _hate_ about here, this world, this...life. It's more about...What I'm missing out there. What I could experience, and feel, and live outside of this place, you know? Sometimes I just think...Why not." Finishing quietly, I looked down at my feet, and felt quite prepared to climb down off of this ledge now, and go bury myself in a mass of covers and pillows, and sleep right through 'til June.

I could feel him watching me, and...It wasn't something I minded. It was something comforting, surprisingly. Or I guess I just felt like that gaze of his was...Understanding of a sort. Blazing, maybe. Intense, perhaps. But understanding.

"Yeah," It was a minute or two before he said anything, breaking the heavy quiet that completely surrounded this window ledge. His voice was quiet, and his breathing was quiet, and his stare had been quiet, and his stance was quiet. There was a bit of that James Potter who had somehow been lost in the past couple of months -- there was bit of him shining through right now. "I understand."

I nodded, and folded my arms, taking one more look at the view from up here, on top of the world.

"This is God." My voice was airy and simple, and the end of our conversation as I stepped down onto the window seat, and left James Potter to his own thoughts at minutes to 9 o'clock, on the night of his eighteenth.

It seemed good for the both of us to think about...the affect we had on each other, up there, dancing with death on a window ledge.

The twenty-first of December, two days later, never seemed to exist. Nothing seemed to have been exchanged between James and myself, and the other two Marauders hadn't been around since that day.

A lot of sleeping seemed to be caught up on by every person who had been deprived of it, and the Christmas tree was suddenly there in the living room in a corner of the room when we woke up one morning. That morning being the 23rd.

"Oh, it's brilliant!" I declared, in a way much less conservative than I had been around this family, as I first seen the large Christmas tree, that was slowly being loaded with decorations. Mrs Potter stood at a container, magicking some on, but James, Lexi, and Jude were putting some on by hand.

"It is, isn't it? I used to bloody well hate waiting this long to put it up, but it seems just a bit more magical," Jude said, giving me a grin, as he placed an ornament on the tree, and turned to me. "Would you like a mug of apple cider?"

Of course, it was apple cider. Warm apple cider spiking the air with it's delicious aroma, and it was one that was so stuck there, in my head, stirring all of these memories, but I just couldn't place it when I was stood at the top of the stairs before coming down that morning. Apple cider, it was almost...comforting to know I could take a scent, like most people, and connect it with a nice memory from my childhood. I had nice memories from my childhood.

"Yes please." I pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt down over my hands as Jude left for the kitchen, and I looked at the tree closer. It was sure to be magnificent at the rate the decorations were being loaded on to it, all strategically placed like the rightful spots for them hadn't change in years.

"Nice of you to join us," Mrs Potter chimed in during the few minutes Jude was gone from the room. And her voice was dripping with sarcasm. I sighed, and stared at my feet, tugging on the sleeves of the sweatshirt more, as I grew uncomfortable.

For the past couple of days I was able to avoid Mrs Potter. They had been out to all sorts of gatherings, and there was just never any reason for me to speak to her. It didn't make things any more enjoyable, though. There was some tension lingering in the air that was not supposed to be there at Christmas time. You weren't supposed to feel so judged, and exposed, and I just didn't like it.

"It's only eight thirty." I drawled back to her, reaching down for an ornament as James stepped out of the way to make room for me, not looking in my direction, instead turning to his Mother.

I tried to ignore the burning stare that I could feel on my back as I went up on tiptoe to put the ornament I had chosen on. I tilted my head, and studied it, grinning as things started feeling just a bit like a traditional Christmas.

"That one doesn't go there," Danielle snapped at me just as I heard James begin to speak to her. I turned to look at her as she brushed by her son, and I raised my eyebrows. "You might as well not bother helping at all, it'll just have to be changed. _Such_ a nuisance..." She muttered the last bit under her breath, and I felt terribly stricken.

I went to raise my eyebrows further but they crumbled down as an unintentionally hurt frown took it's place over my face.

"I'm sorry." I quickly apologized, and I heard Lexi sigh and blow her hair out of her face, turning to look at her Mother as she waved her wand, and the ornament I had placed floated down to one branch lower. That was, indeed, a slap in the face.

"Perhaps I shouldn't help, then." I said as pleasantly as somebody could while blowing up on the inside, and I went over to sit on the couch.

"Perhaps not." Mrs Potter said, in the same sugar-sweet tone I was using, as Mr Potter came back into the room, handing me my mug of cider.

James, I noticed, was conveniently having trouble with the hooks on one of the ornaments and just _couldn't_ pull his eyes away, you know, to observe the situation of his apparent best friend getting berated by his Mother through sarcastic muttering.

He'd ignore it. If I didn't say anything, if I sat here quietly **-- **he wouldn't bother mentioning it. It was just the one thing that we couldn't do. Talk about his Mother. We had tried to, that first morning I was here, but it just ended in bloody knuckles and him telling me I was paranoid.

"Everything all right?" Jude asked good-naturedly, as he went to helping Mrs Potter magically apply ornament.

"Everything's...fine." I said quietly, as James turned his head slightly, just enough for him to meet my eyes, and I pressed my lips hard together, shrugging my shoulders, and offering an expression that easily read "what can you do?".

Thanks for looking out for me, James. I wouldn't...make him, though. I wouldn't whine, and request that he stick up for me against his Mother. I wasn't about to ask him to fight my battles. I'd do it on my own, I just wasn't so sure I'd get through this one alive. I wasn't so sure that I wanted to get through this one alive.

Which made no sense but at the same time made all the sense in the world. Why would I not want to win a battle against my best friend's Mother? Why wouldn't I want to win her over, like I won him over, and build some sort of mother-daughter like relationship with her? Why wouldn't I want to grow close to somebody who I may find myself around in the years to come?

I suppose, a part of me really didn't. A part of me really didn't see James as the proper definition of a best friend. If he was a best friend, his Mother would understand that, and we would get along. A part of me really didn't want to win this. I'd rather just sit it out, let it pass, because honestly -- Why would it matter after these Holidays? Would I ever see her again?

It was so wrong of me to be considering the end of my friendship with James, when it had hardly begun. I was trying to see June. Trying to see us graduating, vowing to stay in touch, and us doing so. I was trying to see us as best friends after Hogwarts -- It was just too hard to do. I couldn't imagine myself with Sirius after Hogwarts, I could hardly imagine myself with him during these few months. There were times throughout these couple of weeks, when I didn't know why I was bothering with them. Why I was here, what I was doing, why I had made that declartion of best friendship to James, so desperately needing him to say it back --Like he had. The only reason for bothering with all of this, that I could come up with, was the simplest thing there was. Was something so very _there_ but not -- It was for James.

It was for James, the one who looked awkwardly on as his darling Mother drove me further and further into the ground. Or further and further away from him.

_Dear Lily,_

_How're the Holidays going for you at the Potter's? Personally, I'd be too nervous to talk to them Afraid I'd make a fool out of myself. _

_I can't believe it's Christmas Eve, the days just seeme to fly by. Yesterday was absolutely pointless. I think during the Holidays there should be no twenty-third of December. Because everybody's finished up everything If they're not, it doesn't matter if they have an extra day or not, their presents will probably suck anyway. So it should go right from the twenty-second to Christmas Eve. Ease the anticipation a bit. I'm an absolute child when it comes to Christmas._

_So, kiss any boys lately? Ray was over here yesterday but I was still bored. I sat around for half of the time staring at the Christmas tree and at all of my presents. Again Kiss any boys lately? I'd imagine you've kissed one of two. I don't know who you're with anymore, or not with. Is it Sirius or James these days?_

_Anyways, I should let you go, my hand's cramping up..._

_I was going to buy you a present! I wasn't just entirely sure what to get you, so I thought a letter from me would be present enough._

_Happy Holidays _

Bridget.

I whole-heartedly agreed with her. The twenty-third of December was a waste of a day. It should've been skipped, and forgotten about, and just not there at all. Especially _my_ twenty-third of December. It didn't improve any after that morning of an almost confrontation with Mrs Potter. It was just a quiet day around the house, for once. Mr & Mrs Potter went away early in the afternoon, while James and myself assumed the position of babysitter for Lexi. That was until he bailed on me when Melly came over. Which made no sense to me, because I thought she was, like, the 'built-in babysitter' or something.

But no, I just played with Lexi most of the day, until she went to bed at 8 o'clock, and I found there was no way to get out of going to the Living Room to hang out with James and Melly.

The two of them had been sitting on the couch, James with his feet up on the coffee table, and Melly was leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

There was a Holiday special on television, and we just quietly watched it as the night grew darker. The only source of light being the glow from the screen of the television.

"Thanks for looking after Lexi today." James had said to me at some point, without bothering to look at me, without making it seem sincere.

I just nodded, and curled up into the chair more, picking at the sleeve of my shirt, feeling Melly's gaze on me.

"I'm going to get a drink. Anybody want anything?" James shook his head, as I did, too.

Melly left the room, and I realized she wasn't as tall as I had orginally thought. Well, she was. But we were probably about the same height, and I wasn't necessarily short. But she somehow pulled it off. She just seemed to float along with her head held higher than I could ever imagine holding mine, and she was so graceful. Her long hair swayed along with her, and her strides were probably two times the length of my own. I was just awkward. Having such red hair, and such green eyes, and being so lanky. She had a nice, straight stance, and held her shoulders back easily, whereas I'd have to remind myself to sit up straight.

I was sitting there, moving my shoudlers uncomfortably as I considered my appearance, until I caught sight of James giving me a rather amused grin.

"What are you doing?" He asked, and I folded my arms, sitting still again.

"I've just decided in the last minute that I'm lanky, and have an awkward posture." He narrowed his eyes as he considered me, and tilted his head, leaning it back against the couch.

"I don't think you do. I just think it's how you _feel_ you look," Both of us looked to Melly as she came back into the room with a glass of juice. "But maybe you should actually look at how you look, and you'll realize you're..." He shrugged. "Wrong."

And that night, the twenty-third of December, after no further conversation with James, and turning in early to bed **-- **I did look at myself. Just stood there in the full length mirror, wearing a pair of pajama pants, and a tank top -- I looked at my reflection.

I stood a little straighter, and pulled my hair up, examining all 5'5 of me. I lifted my chin and kept my lips set in a serious pout, taking in the length of my neck, and the curve of my collarbone. My neck was completely bare -- I hadn't wore a necklace for a few days...For some reason it seemed like it had been years ago, not a month, since Sirius had given me that necklace that matched his eyes...

Maybe...James was right. I just felt lanky and tired looking, especially when I was around a girl like Melly, who just seemed to radiate some sort of blinding beauty. And it was hard being jealous of her, or hard hating her. She was just so nice, and hardly seemed aware of the way she presented herself so easily.

It was a bit of a comfort, to think that maybe she looked on to me the same way I did to her. Wanting her chestnut coloured hair, with all of those auburn highlights. Maybe she wanted my red hair. Maybe she wanted my skin colour. Maybe she thought I was pretty, but it didn't matter if she did or not, because James did, in fact, say I was beautiful at one point. That's all that mattered at times when I'd compare myself. James Potter had said it.

Christmas Eve started out...mad. The house was busy, and awake, and loud, and I woke with some sort of determination.

I pulled on a sweatshirt and a pair of socks, and left my room in my pajamas. As tense as yesterday had been it was still nice to feel it in the air. Feel the impending Christmas morning, feel the unspoken excitement from everybody, feel the love that somebody had for somebody else in the house. Not everybody loved everybody there, but you knew you were loved, cared about, or needed by at least one other, and that was a comfort I had not felt for so long. But here it was, just lingering in the Christmas Eve Morning atmosphere.

"Pancakes, toast, waffles, or all three?" Jude asked as I stepped into the kitchen, and was automatically handed a plate.

"Oh, um. Waffles, please." I grinned at him, and he returned it as he put two waffles onto my plate from the stack that was sitting on the counter.

"Everybody is everywhere, so just...make yourself comfortable." He wiped his hands clean as I poured maple syrup onto my waffles, and I nodded.

"Thank you." I said, genuinely grateful for a friendly morning.

He didn't leave me to my pouring of maple syrup, though. The grin left his face, and he looked rather serious as a hand leapt to his bald head, and he rubbed it over it.

"Dani means well." Was all he said, not even beginning the conversation in any other way.

"It's fine, Jude," There was the strangest sensation that coursed through me for a moment. Like I had known this man forever, or I would know this man forever, or this would just be the beginning of these momentary one-on-one's with him. I blinked heavily to rid myself of it, and thought it must've just been because I had actually called him by his first name, and felt adult-like because of that. "I don't expect to...Spend much time around her after these Holidays anyway."

I felt rather than saw the air of surprise he held, as an eyebrow raised slowly, and he folded his arms.

"Because you don't like her?" He ventured a guess, and I just shook my head, smiling slightly.

"No, I mean, after this yea,-"

"Does James mean something to you, Lily?" Jude pressed, and I noticed that James probably had more creases in his forehead than this man did.

"He does, yes." I answered, looking away from him, and down at my plate.

Does James mean something to me. It would come to be a common question amongst Jude and myself when I was doubting things.

"Then I think you should make peace with his Mother, with my wife. I can tell you now I don't think either of you are going to let this go as easily as you seem to think you may. You wouldn't be bothering, Lily dear, to come home with the boy for the holidays if you didn't want your friendship to evolve after this," I met Jude's stare, and wasn't surprised or startled by it **-- **It was so much like James's. "We'll talk later." Jude left me to my breakfast as Mac, his brother in law, called him over, laughing at something someone said.

I wouldn't be bothered if I didn't want our friendship...

That determination I had woke with didn't fade yet, and I was still feeling rather energetic, and prepared due to it. So, as Jude walked over to talk to Mac, I brushed by him, and took an empty seat at the dining room table. Right next to Mrs Potter.

James's Aunt, Uncle, and cousin were over again today, and Mary was talking to Jenn, as I sat down at the table next to Mrs Potter. I smiled at them, as Mrs Potter buttered a piece of toast, and completely ignored my presence.

"Your son means something to me," I began, as randomly and quietly as I could. "And your husband seems to think this won't be it -- This won't be the only time you ever see me. I'd really like if it wasn't, I'd really like if you'd believe that I'm not some joke,"

"I'd admire your determination, but you might as well just not bother. As much as you'd _like_ to think that maybe your friendship with him is a sure thing **-- **We both know you're better off not trying to make things work, failing, and ending up humiliated."

"What...are you getting at?" Mrs Potter seemed to refused to offer me a direct glance, and kept herself busy with pouring herself another cup of tea, and buttering herself a biscuit. I didn't want to look at her, either, so I just stared off somewhere near the pitcher of orange juice, before pouring myself a glass.

"You're just not good enough for him." A sudden shock ran through my body, as I paused for a second and let her words register with me.

Abandoning any previous decision to keep this conversation as subtle, and quiet as possible, I whirled around in my chair, fully turning my body so I was sitting, staring at her.

"Pardon?" I asked, shrilly, and in a way she probably thought was pathetic and weak.

"All right," A deep voice interrupted what could become dangerous between the two of us, and a firm grip on my upper arm called me from the icy depths of Mrs Potter's eyes. "Come have a smoke with me, Lily."

It was Remus gently coaxing me into a standing position from which I looked down at Mrs Potter and firmly reminded him I did _not_ smoke, I didn't need another reason for her to hate me.

"I don't smoke."

"Ohkay, let's go have a good cry, come on."

Sirius and James were in the living room, I hardly realized as we left the kitchen, made our way down the hall, and stood at the coat rack. You could see into the living room, and I offered a brief glance before Remus's jacket was draped over my shoulders, and he was leading me with very little persuasion out of the front door.

And I had been right. That first morning I met Dani, the way she stared at me with all of the scrutiny in the world...I remember thinking it was like I wasn't good enough. I wasn't, of course. How could I be. How could I think I'd be good enough, how could James think she'd tolerate me, not to mention _adore_ me. Why did this feel like the single most impossible thing, person, situation I had ever come up against. Why did James Potter make me so fucking hopeless.

**  
**Remus turned to me as we stood on the top step, took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, and lit it with his wand. Smoke issued from the end of it, and I threw myself down onto the concrete step, hunching over, with my head in my hands.

"It's not any fair, you know. I didn't...I didn't even_ do _anything..." I trailed off, realizing he was the last person who'd want to hear me go on about how I wasn't being accepted, or trusted, or whatever. Because he was so hesitant to accept or trust me, and just...Dammit. "She's just treating me like...like..."

"Shit. She's treating you like _shit_, Lily," He took a long drag off of the cigarette, and I could smell the harsh smoke meet my nose as he blew it out. "And you _take_ it. You haven't proved her wrong, Lils. You haven't proved that you are, in fact, good enough. If you were good enough for him, for that family, you would've stood up, said something **-- **Proved yourself. Because that family's all about proving themselves, ask James **-- **He's been proving himself since the day he was born."

"What do you want me to do, Remus?" I shouted, though it was more like some muffled cry as I had my head buried away in my hands. "I can't prove myself to somebody when I don't know what I'm trying to prove, or when I can't even prove to myself who I am. Why should I have to prove anything to her? _James is my friend_. There is absolutely nothing else I should have to say to her."

"You're right," Remus said simply, as I turned to look at him with a dark frown. He threw his cigarette down onto the step, and trodded on it to put it out. I watched as he shrugged his shoulders, and kept his gaze out on the street, looking past me. He would say I was right, and then twist it horribly so that I was right, but in a completely wrong way. He'd just do something to make me _wrong_ in a way, because he wouldn't give anything up without a fight.

"You are so right. All you should've had to do was smile at Dani the first morning you met her, shook her hand or hugged her, and introduced yourself as James's newly found friend, Lily, who was so pleased to be invited home with him for the Holidays. You shouldn't have to prove that you're nothing more, and that you're not trying to steal him away. You _shouldn't_. As long as she knows, and heard it from you, and as long as you introduced yourself like that **-- **Then none of this is your fault,"

I looked away from him, shaking my head slowly, my nostrils widening for a moment, and stinging with some rush of emotion. He was, of course, turning it around to be my fault. It was my fault I didn't act like some comfortable, adjusted, warm, pleasant girl when I first met her. It was my fault I didn't casually throw the fact that James and I were just friends into every conversation I had with her. Remus was, of course, going to ask if I had told Mrs Potter that I was just friends with James.

"So, the last fact of the matter is...Did you tell Dani, firmly, that your just friends with James? And did you keep your hands to yourself while being around him?"

Remus was smiling, easily, smoothly, and with all the charm a bitter, resentful boy like him could have. I wasn't even looking at him, but I just could _feel_ how twistedly proud he was of himself for proving me wrong, and kicking me while I was already down.

"I didn't tell her, Remus, that I was just friends, and I didn't distance myself a lot from James when we were around her, because,--"

"Oh, I'd like to hear this one,--"

"Because I'm _not enough_! I haven't been since the second I walked in that door, the second I met her, the second I left Diagon Alley, the second I saw the for sale sign on my lawn, the second I became _anything_ to James Potter, I became _less_ to myself, and it doesn't _matter_ what I say to her. It doesn't matter if we're just friends, that woman is as stubborn as hell, and she will only hear what she _wants_ to hear, and she does not want to hear that I'm a half decent _god damn_ person," I stood up, gestured with my hands, and was half an inch from his face, shouting with blood rushing to my legs, my hands, and my head, making me dizzy with all sorts of things. Realization that the last paragraph I had just spat out was complete truth, and I hadn't even thought about it before hand.

"And it's people like you, Remus, that encourages people like her to hate...people like me." I shook my head, shrugged my shoulders, and offered a tight-lipped, sad, smile to the boy with creases in his forehead.

And that boy who had eyes of an experienced man had nothing at all to say as I threw the door open, and left him out there to be one with the bitter cold that matched him almost to perfection.

"Lily!" I had ignored the persistently ignored the banging on the bathroom door for the last 5 minutes. Just like I had persistently ignored the knocking on the bedroom door for 5 minutes, until surrendering to take a shower, where the knocking was not as hard to ignore with the streaming water blocking the sound out.

"The door's not locked, Lily," I heard him say in a rather business-like tone, the knocking ceasing.

"And how would you know?" I asked, in an airy tone that was sure not to be heard correctly as I massaged shampoo into my hair.

"Because there's no damn lock on the door." He replied, with one more thud to the door.

I sighed, and shut my eyes, turning away from the showerhead, and leaning my head back to rinse the shampoo.

As much as I _didn't_ want to talk to him, I had to admit it was rather exhilirating with him on the other side of the bathroom door when I was taking a warm shower, and denying him the one thing he would want.

Conversation.

I had been starving for it all day, or rather my subconcious had. The rest of me wanted to ignore him, pack my bag, catch a bus, and just go back to Hogwarts for the remainder of the Holidays. But Christmas was tomorrow, and I wasn't known for being a rude girl, so I thought why not try to stake it out. Make it as painful for them as possible.

But it was harder to ignore him than I had thought it would be. Because he was the one person I was usually not ignoring, and talking to about ignoring people, and...Making things better. We were meant to argue, make up, and be better than before, making that bond closer. It didn't feel right, though, going to the one who was almost deliberately keeping me on the outside of Christmas with his family, in order to get a sense of **-- **false **-- **security. Why go to him like everything was all right, when he was the one who was making this almost unbearable.

I had avoided James much of the day, as well as Sirius and Remus **-- **though avoiding them was a bit simpler, since I wasn't really on good terms with either of them now. I forced conversation with James's Aunt and Uncle, though was a bit intimidated by his cousins' warm smiles, so I didn't talk to her. It was probably nearing 7 o'clock in the evening, and I was feeling rather...Let down. I couldn't come up with a reason for me not to be. This was absolute Hell, really.

"You're not coming in here." I said simply, folding my arms once I had completely rinsed my hair, and stood directly beneath the showerhead, just letting my skin tingle due to the excessive warmth of the water.

"Like Hell I'm not. You can't avoid me in there. We need to talk." He sounded rather firm, and serious, but he never did come through the door without my permission. Not once, ever. Not throughout our lives did James walk through a closed door without knocking first, and that's something you have to respect.

But, in thinking, what about James Potter didn't deserve respect? It was unfair, truthfully. The way his hair always was messed up, and the way his hazel eyes said more than he did at times, and the way his voice was so pleasantly deep, but could be so shrill in moments of desperation **-- **It was unfair that the tiniest details about that boy, man, _James_ was admired, and looked at, and inspected with more care than most people pay to their own lives. Speaking on behalf of myself, and myself only, of course, I think there isn't anything about him that isn't respected.

Maybe it was just me. Well, chances have it -- It's just me. It's just me who can't help but notice the way his filtrum (**A/N -- cleft in your upper lip) **is more pronounced than most others, and it's just me who can't help but notice that little tick he has with brushing his index finger beneath his right cheek, and it's me who can't help but notice the way he _regards_ a person. Just the way everything about him radiates so much integrity, and raw, honest, emotion that is so irreplaceable you wonder if you can even _live_ a _day_ without him...

And it's just me who respected my best friend. I don't think anybody else did. Respected their best friend. The one person in life they stand beside for years, the one person they beat down, and bring up, and who sees them at their worse...I don't know why I respected my best friend, and put so much into depending on him to be _incredible_...Because I was only sure to be disappointed with the way I wanted the world.

Holding my head rather high for an awkward girl -- who recognized that awkwardness **-- **who was wrapped in nothing but a towel, I left the bathroom to go into the bedroom to get dressed.

James had given up, and thank God for it. Him being so...hesitant, and unsure of himself made me, momentarily, dignified and sure of myself. He had left without conversation, without saying a word more, without wanting to know anything, without _needing_ to know anything.

I pulled the door open, not realizing how suffocating the bathroom had felt until cool air from the bedroom met me, and I shivered.

Rather occupied with looking down at the trail of water I was tracking over the carpet, I failed to notice him just sitting there on the bed, up against the backboard, reading one of my books.

Looking up, I stopped in my tracks, and almost lost my grip on the towel, before regaining it and pulling it tighter.

"Don't look at me!" I said shrilly, raising my eyebrows high in surprise, as he looked up from the book.

"We need to talk!" James said quickly, averting his gaze back to the book.

"Too bad." I scoffed calmly, standing rigidly and just daring him to look up.

Which, of course, he did.

"Shut your eyes,--"

"Well, if you'd put some _bloody clothes on_," He interruped me in a shout, shutting his eyes as he did.

"Throw me that sweater." I told him, taking a deep breath, and willing myself not to turn and run back to the bathroom.

He felt around for the sweater that I was referring to, laying on the floor near the bed, and when he couldn't find it **-- **He opened his eyes, picked it up, and tossed it to me. I don't think he realized his rather wandering gaze was quite noticeable.

"_James_," I gritted out, and he looked away, sharply, closing his eyes firmly. "If you so much as _blink_..." I muttered, turning my back on him, and sliding the towel down to wrap around my waist, as I quickly pulled the sweatshirt on.

"Your shampoo smells..._really_ good." He said with either a yawn or a sigh, I wasn't sure.

I, however, did sigh as I turned around with the sweatshirt on, and the towel acting as a skirt.

"What do you want, James." Once again James opened his eyes, and looked at me. I mean, _really_ looked at me. Like he was seeing me without blinders on for the first time. Seeing me with sopping wet hair that was plastered to the side of my neck, soaking the shoulders of the sweatshirt, and a rouge to my cheeks due to the warmth of the bathroom, and my legs with water droplets sliding down them...James was seeing me as some kind of exposed, and taking the oppurtunity to realize it. To realize I wasn't as able as I liked to pretend I was. Not able to hold the weight of the world, anyway I can.

"_To talk_. Do you think you can hide away in the bedroom all day and nobody'd notice?" He didn't look at me while he talked, however. Instead he stood up, and straightened the bottom of his t-shirt.

"Oh, so somebody noticed, did they?" I said airily, folding my arms, and looking interestedly at my bare feet.

"Stop being passive-aggressive, and look at me when we're talking, would you?"

Raising my eyebrows sleekly, and leaving my eyes rather lidded, and innocent looking, I brought my gaze to him.

"Perhaps that's an order both of us should follow." I shrugged, and he let out a rather frustrated sigh.

"It wasn't an _order_, Lily,--"

"Just shut up, would you?" It had come from my mouth before I had a chance to reason with myself, and think about it. It's what I wanted him to do, honestly, but not _just_ him. Everybody. My own thoughts, even.

"All right, Evans," He rumpled his hair, and something that resembled exhausted satisfaction leapt into my throat at the familiarity of that one, simple action. "We won't talk, then. Nice sweatshirt, _by the way_."

His voice was soft, hoarse, and I liked to think struggling to stay calm. I wanted him to blow up at me, put me in my place, explain my life to me. I wanted him to give me some sort of reassurance that he wasn't backing out of this. That I wasn't really a hopeless case.

James turned to go, and I made a single sound of protest that was easily overlooked by him.

And when he shut the door just a bit harder than normal, I realized the sweatshirt I was wearing was the one I had kept that was his.

I shut my fluttery eyelids, as a shudder wracked through my body. My hands were clenched at my sides, and when did this room get so big? When did I get so small, why was James so tall, _why can't we just leave._

_-_

Sometimes you smile so much your whole face hurts. Not in a good way, not in an accomplished way. You don't feel your face hurting from smiling so much, and think...Wow, tonight was just so good. I just couldn't stop smiling. That must be why my face hurts.

No, it's when you've put on those wide, fake grins for almost an hour that your face starts to hurt. You smile those fake smiles when you feel oblivious, cold-shouldered, and _stupid_ to the rest of the world.

Well, my face hurt. And I had been sitting in the Den with Jude, Mac, Mary, and Jenn for not quite an hour. It was almost ten o'clock, and I think the main reason I surrendered there was because...James, Sirius, and Remus were in the living room, and Mrs Potter was trying to make Lexi get settled down so she wouldn't be that tired on Christmas morning. Melly had also 'joined the party' at 8 o'clock or so, and was likely in the living room with the Marauders.

Plus, all of the questions they threw my way were appreciated. I got to talk about me, and think about something other than arguments.

Things were going...well, as fine as they could be for me at the moment, and even though I had fake smiled one too many times...I was all right. Mrs Potter's brother and sister-in-law were nice enough, I just wondered why it didn't run in the family. Jenn was sweet, though I was absolutely petrified to go too near her, just in case the baby kicked, or something equally as startling. I didn't do too well in awkward, pregnancy situations. I hated putting my hand on the stomach of a mother-to-be. It was just too...weird for me.

Right, so. Things were all right, until that _one_ question that Mary asked...

"So, my nephew and yourself...Right?" I suppose she was trying to be discrete about it, and offer me some kind of sly smile, but...I didn't get what she meant. The whole idea of James and myself was so foreign, to me at least, that I just couldn't understand why and how his family was putting that together. I guess it wasn't that much of a long shot, but I just...Didn't see it.

That being the reason why I gaped at her for half a minute of silence before Jude spoke up.

"She means...Are you two...together." He spoke loudly and slowly as if he was talking to somebody who wasn't all too smart, and I shook my head, blinking a few times.

"Oh, oh. Oh. No, no. I..." Stopping, shaking my head once more, and smiling widely I started again. "No, um. James and me are just good friends, actually."

Mary's eyebrows rose in obvious disbelief; Jenn's expression was something along the lines of that, as well. Mac looked surprised, apparently he had thought so, too. Jude scrunched his face up, allowing his impending wrinkles to protrude, and he offered me a rather apolegetic look.

"Just friends? I...Oh," Mary cast a glance in the direction of the living room as if this would confirm the just-friends label, and then she allowed a small smile to take over her features. "Well, I was just going to tell you that he's very lucky to have found a girl like you. But...Either way, I suppose. Just friends or not, James is lucky. You seem perfect for him, if you don't mind me saying." I opened my mouth to laugh an appreciated laugh, but someone else's laughter broke through before my own.

Mrs Potter had just walked into the room, and she was laughing as if no one else could hear her.

As everyone turned in their chairs to face her, she put a hand to her chest, and cleared her throat.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Was all she said, before taking an armchair next to her husband. "Lexi finally settled down, she's awfully..."

I never heard the rest, as I quietly excused myself, declaring my need for a drink **-- **I had no intentions of returning, of course.

With a hand to my forehead to ease the throbbing in it, I made my way towards the kitchen, and used my hip to open the door.

The door ended up hitting me hard in the back, as I never really finished walking through the frame of it. I couldn't have just denied any speculation that James and me were more than friends, and then walk into the kitchen and see him like this. I couldn't, because it confused me, and I didn't know how to handle situations that I was confused in.

I don't know why on Christmas Eve, with his face all clean-shaven, and smooth looking, and his hair about as flat to his head as I've ever seen it** -- **Except for near the front, that stuck out at rather odd angles** -- **I don't know why he looked so good. Maybe it was the dim light of the kitchen, and the carton of egg nog he had in his hand. Maybe it was the the shadows dancing over his features and giving him that impression of mystery that never truly left him. Maybe it was the fact I was so utterly weak, and far too naive to see that just now.

"Hey," I said breathlessly, and only because the door hitting my back knocked the breath from me.

James turned from the counter, where he was pouring glasses of egg nog, and furrowed his brow at me.

He licked his lips, as if tasting bitter words of resentment from earlier resting on them-- But he chose to say nothing of it.

"Hey, egg nog?" He greeted simply, suavely, casually, and in a way that was so _James_.

"Yes please." I smiled at him, and he narrowed his eyes in a hazy, intent way, a small smile brushing by his own lips.

"You'll come hang out with us, yeah? We're just in the living room." He asked, while pouring a second glass of egg nog, and handing me the first.

"Yeah, I mean..." I looked at him, as he wiped a drop of the milky liquid off of the side of the carton before returning it to the fridge.

"Yeah, that'd be...Sure."

I put my hair behind my ears and felt my cheeks flush, as he turned around and gave me a rather confused raise of his eyebrows.

"I want to ask you so bad what the hell is going on, but I promise I'll leave it." James took his glass from off of the counter, and headed by me towards the door.

"Your Mum," I started, as he went to push the door open.

Pressing my lips hard together as he turned back around to look at me-- I knew it was the worst possible way to start a sentence when talking to him. I knew it was nothing he'd want to hear, and I knew it might not get me anywhere. To him, it may mean nothing. What was he supposed to do? Yell at his Mum for not liking me? What was he supposed to say?

I didn't want him choosing sides, I didn't expect him to know what to say to me. Dani was his Mum, and I had no business trying to interfere with the mother/son relationship that they had. I had no business complaining to him about it, no business relying on him to fix it, make it better, make this Christmas incredible. But he wanted to know what the hell was going on, and his Mum not liking me **-- **at all-- had everything to do with what the hell was going on.

"This morning, we...I was talking to her. I just told her I wanted to _try_ to get along, but she looked at me, and she said _you're not good enough for him_. You. Not good enough for you. And _honestly_, I'm not trying to be good enough for you, I'm just your friend, James, and I didn't think there'd be a day that I'd have to apologize for that."

James sighed, and rubbed his face with the hand that wasn't holding his glass.

"Great," He muttered, itching his brow, a pained **-- **"I don't want to have to deal with this"-- expression hit his face. "What...what am I supposed to do?"

He slammed his way through the swinging door, and I followed after him, feeling guilty somehow.

James sat down in an armchair, Sirius was sprawled out on the sofa set off to the side of the room, and Remus was in an armchair, as well.

All too aware of the three boys, I sat down on the larger sofa, and folded my hands in my lap, crossing my ankles all elegant, and lady-like. And I was neither.

Sirius was going longneck up, as Remus offered me a cheeky grin, and a "hello". I must say, I liked that boy better on alcohol.

"This is what you boys do for fun on the Holidays?" James quirked his lips, as he drank his _egg nog_, and Sirius took to answering my question.

"Nope," He said loudly, setting his empty bottle down on the floor. "This is what we do on the Holidays when we have to respect the presence of a lady." I scoffed, raising an eyebrow at him, as he folded his arms over his chest.

"Your parents let you guys drink?" I turned my attention to James, as Sirius spoke to Remus.

"Yeah, wild isn't it? We drink in my living room, with my parents across the hallway. I'm drinking egg nog for christ's sake," He drained his glass, and then let a satisfied "ahh" out. "It's just so damn good."

Both of us looked at the television for a moment, and then back at each other.

James was leaned over a bit, with his elbow propped up on the arm of the chair, and his head propped up in his hand. His gaze was lazy, but evasive. His expression casual, his eyes lidded, but his jaw was rather clenched. He looked strong, but torn. Complete, but indecisive. He looked like a boy who would rather be anywhere but where he was, but couldn't imagine things any other way.

It was enough to make me burst at the seams with apologetic anthems to justify why I was the way I was, and why I couldn't be any other way. I felt so childish under his imposing stare, and it was as if the position I was sitting in was crumbling until my posture would be hunched, and the hands folded politely in my lap would be shaking.

And it was that kind of scrutiny -- from that kind of boy -- that kept me sane, kept me stubborn, kept me alive.

It was probably quarter after eleven when Mac, Mary, and Jenn decided to head for home. Everybody was lazy, and tired, and grinning, and felt the inevitable excitement over Christmas morning, despite everything.

As we were saying our goodbye's, and exchanging brief hugs, Jenn gasped and went wide-eyed, grabbing onto my hand, and pulling it to her stomach.

"It's never kicked before. I'm eight months pregnant, and it's just properly kicking now, oh my God." She murmured excitedly, looking to her Mum, hardly seeming to realize the state I was suddenly in.

"Oh my God." I muttered in unison with her, and glanced around the suddenly crowded entrance way to see James looking at us, surprised.

"James, come here." Jenn beckoned to her cousin, and grabbed his hand, as well. She held it for a moment, considering where to put it, and then placed it directly over my own.

"It must be a foot. It's just kicking _right_ there. Can you feel it?"

James grinned widely. "Yes."

"Mum, come feel this." The two of us removed our hands as Mary came over to the beaming Jenn, and we stood in the doorway of the living room, watching everybody else.

"That was incredible. I've always had a bit of a fascination with that. Kicking babies. It's...pretty unbelievable." He shrugged his broad shoulders, and put his hands in his pockets, looking to me.

"I don't want kids." I blurted out, suddenly, overwhelmed for some reason.

James raised his eyebrows, his grin still slightly in place, and he shrugged again.

"I do," He said, with a careful nod. "I want kids. Can't imagine life being fulfilled without any, you know?"

"Can't say I do," I muttered quietly, shaking my head. "Can't imagine life being fulfilled with any."

It was humbling, hard, realization** -- **How different we were. There were so many obvious differences, but then there were these insignificant facts that revealed themselves as time went on, and sometimes they made things harder. Sometimes it was a big deal to get over the latest revelation about each other, and just accept the fact this was how it was supposed to be. We were different **-- **He could focus on the positive, and I was slowly becoming a cynic; He was afraid at times, and though he was stubborn, he could admit his fear for a situation, whereas I was just wholly stubborn and refused to see things; He had a gorgeous vocabulary, and I always sounded like a rambling idiot when I used words like he did. We balanced each other out, though. He needed to realized the negative, and I needed to embrace the positive. _We_, whether we knew it then, needed one another.

And that was something I could easily live with.

"Happy Christmas, Lily." The goodnight's were drawing to an end, as Sirius and Remus decided to head home about a minute after the other three left.

And there was Sirius Black wishing me an early happy christmas, lacking any bottle of beer, and any cheeky grin.

"Yes, you too. Merry Christmas." I offered him a quick smile, before going to say more, but was swept into a rather suffocating hug by Remus.

"Happy Holidays, Lils. I'm a jackass, and am sorry for that." I grinned, and hit him in the shoulder when we pulled apart. How was it that this boy was more perceptive when he was alcohol induced than when he was not?

"Merry Christmas, Remus." He smiled, and turned to James.

James and Remus went about exchanging well wishes, and that somehow led to laughter, and then there was nothing for me to do but turn back to Sirius.

It just...so happened that he and I...were standing just beneath a spirg of mistletoe, hanging from the ceiling in the hallway.

I noticed it, of course, being Muggle born and fully understanding the consequences of being underneath mistletoe. But Sirius did't notice, for whatever reason, and I wasn't about to point it out.

Going up on my tiptoes I offered him the briefest hug possible, and smiled at him once more.

"See you later." He nodded, and looked down at his feet.

He would not offer me an apologie for what went on three days ago. He did not have to. It was not expected of him. I hated how he was trying to act like nothing was wrong. Like he had not come off like some kind of jealous idiot, and like he had not ruined any possibility of him and me. I hated how he was too _scared_ and too _proud_ to tell me he was out of line, and that he was sorry. I hated how _this was Sirius_, and this was what I'd have to deal with if I could honestly stop, think and realize I still wanted...something with him.

None of which, at the moment, I could do.

11:45, and things had quieted down to the point where I thought I may go crazy. There was just some warm silence amongst the Potter's as they lounged in the Living Room, that I did not belong in. It was as if I was a quiet observer of the model family, and I would never be able to obtain something so good. As disappointing as it was to think this, it was also strangely comforting to know this type of family exisisted. The type who had people in it who were flawed beyond repair, but when they were together they were absolutely brilliant, and nothing could break that.

By midnight Jude and Mrs Potter said goodnight, turned the lights on the Christmas tree off, and went to bed. Feeling Mrs Potter's lingering eye as she left the room prompted me to tell James I was off to bed, as well.

I yawned as I stepped into my bedroom, and turned the light on. I still had to wrap all of the gifts I had bought, and being the rather traditional girl I was, I planned on doing it by hand, rather than just waving my wand a few times.

But after I straightened the room up, got my pajamas out, and realized it was just passed midnight -- Waving my wand seemed a lot easier.

In five minutes all of the gifts were wrapped, and I was just finishing up writing the 'to' and 'from' out on the tags, when I took a glance out of the bedroom window, that overlooked the front yard, and the street below.

It was a clear night, and the glass of the window somehow seemed clearer, too.

A shiver running down my spine, and a small smile on my lips, I turned back to the gifts, and decided to take them downstairs, and put them under the tree.

I climbed onto the bed, going to pull the blind down before going downstairs, and saw somebody standing right in the middle of the street. Shaking my head, and quirking an eyebrow, I grabbed onto the end of the blind, and tugged it down...

Until I realized that somebody standing in the middle of the street was James. Squinting, I moved closer to the window, until my breath was fogging it up. It had to be him. Hands in his pockets, head inclined upwards, and moonlight reflecting in his glasses.

I threw my long, huge-buttoned, chocolate brown winter coat on, and gathered all of the presents into my arms. With difficulty due to the amount that I was carrying, I arrived in the living room, spread the gifts out under the tree, and then found myself opening the front door quietly, and going out into the night.

I drew my coat closer, while walking down the driveway to the curb, focusing on the quite still James.

It was a light night, the large moon providing much of the light. The dark sky had a bit of a navy-blue glow to it, and only the brightest stars could be really seen. It was quiet on this street, only a couple of street lights were on, and there were no lights on in any of the houses. It was peaceful, and hard to believe there was a world outside of this.

I understood, now, why he was standing in the middle of the street, so effortlessly. Everything was...Dead. But in this delicate, mesmeric way. Everything wasn't so much dead, as it was...Tired. It was as if the world held it's breath, and was covered in a frosty sleep, that we were free to enjoy.

There was the slightest breeze, however, that kept the night lulled in it's sleep, but made me feel so _alive_. I was suddenly aware of everything, from the sound of my breathing, to the length of my eyelashes, to the distance at which James was standing. I had gone from on the edge of sleep, to on the edge of some exhilirated drive into the night. The breeze blew over the apples of my cheeks, and I felt them flush It was a rather beautiful feeling.

The gravel and snow on the drive crunched beneath my feet, and I watched them closely, in love with the simple sound.

James's gaze was slowly brought towards me, and I let out a _whoosh_ of breath, always mesmerized by the way it contrasted against the night.

"Hey." His tone was quiet, but seemed to echo throughout the seemingly empty night, and it was certainly appreciative.

"Do you...ever sleep anymore?" I asked with a slight smile on my face. Once upon a time he was the boy who went to sleep as soon as classes were over, woke to eat a meal, and then was sleeping again.

"Honestly?" His eyes were sharp and aware, but so deliciously _hazel_. "No, I...I really don't." His gaze was back at the sky, his hand was then in his hair, and then he was looking at me again.

"I've not got much reason to anymore. I used to sleep a lot, because...I was bored, I guess. Bored and easily exhausted, but...It kinda changed," He pressed his lips together, and nodded slowly. "You kinda made me love staying up as late as possible, and you kinda made me appreciate the circles underneath my eyes, and that's why I'm _so sorry_ that this isn't at all like we expected it to be."

I stood with rather wide eyes, and slightly parted lips. The air was so fresh, and cool, and clear that it almost hurt to breathe so well, and smoothly. My arms became rigid and I did not know what to say.

Nothing was like we had expected it to be. The Holidays weren't, he wasn't, and our friendship wasn't _like we expected it to be_.

"You know," Slowly, and my head turning this way and that to be sure there were no cars coming, I joined him on the pavement, that was glimmering with frost. "There's absolutely nothing we can do about it now."

With his jaw rather clenched, and his stare rather piercing he looked down at me.

"I'm sorry...she doesn't think you're good enough."

I nodded, and looked down at the pavement, then up at the sky, and silence greeted us like old friends.

There was finally nothing left to say.

**abc.**


	15. Behind the Madness

**Chapter 15  
**"Behind the Madness"

Danielle Potter was a proud woman, I remember thinking that soon after meeting her.

You could see it in her eyes, her posture, her lack of wrinkles. She was _proud_. She had every right to be, and I understood that.

Danielle Potter was married at the age of eighteen - fresh out of Hogwarts, where both of James's parents attended. James wasn't born until she was _thirty four_, and he was meant to be their only child. For he was a son, and when families of prosperity had a son - it was all they needed.

All of a sudden it seemed, she turned forty seven and her whole world came crashing down in some type of storm that nobody expected to befall the Potter's.

Midlife crisis' met both herself and her husband head on, and a divorce was likely to follow. It was never spoken, but it was likely. Work was all Jude Potter lived for, and Danielle Potter lived for blocking the magical world from her perfectly shaped life. That was a problem for Jude, the realist. Working so high up in the Ministry meant he knew of all the problems the Magical world was facing, and he usually had to deal with all of those problems himself - as potentially fatal as they may be.

And then? She was forty-seven, three months pregnant, and almost completely detached from her husband.

It changed then, I guess. When she got pregnant with Lexi - Jude and her made things work, and somehow were more in love than before.

But she became protective, a bit. She was an idealist living in a world full of jaded cynics, and could control little that happened in life.

Her children, though. They were her pride and joy. As difficult as it must've been to get pregnant, again, unexpectedly at an older age - She wanted that baby girl more than anything in the world.

She put all of her faith and hope into the birth of Lexi. Swearing that having a baby around the house would help her and Jude, and they'd get back to where they were, and her son would start respecting her, and talking to her again.

And...It worked, it seemed. She was happy again, Jude and her back to where they were, and James stopped being a little brat.

Danielle Potter didn't have the life she planned on having, and it wasn't always as great as she thought it would be, but she had very little to complain about. She had children, and one thing she _could_ do was make sure they had the best of everything. Make sure nothing in their life went wrong, and make sure she _approved_ of everything.

Her husband was quiet at times, after their reconciliation. Letting her be protective, and controlling. He didn't fight her on anything anymore, and bless him for it. Her children grew familiar with the thought of their Mum making the decisions in their life, and being quite particular over who they were friends with.

And that's what it was. That's where my whole role in this began. I wasn't a childhood friend, I wasn't at an age of innocence where Mrs Potter could blindly win me over - I had forced my way into James's life sometime during the months where Mrs Potter was not there to watch over him, and he had let me. He had let me in, and brought me home for the Holidays, and Danielle Potter couldn't take that. She couldn't take the fact that James didn't care whether or not she liked me - James liked me, and she didn't matter in our friendship. James had grown up and Mrs Potter had somehow missed it. And that's why I wasn't good enough. I had walked in on already shaky grounds, and...I swear she didn't mean it, even if it hurt a bit - She didn't mean it. She was just covering up for being weaker than she was meant to be. Mrs Potter and I had something in common afterall.

But none of that seemed to matter right now. For we were standing in the middle of the street, on Christmas Eve. James and me.

"**Cavanaugh Park", by Something Corporate.**

" 

We had stood there for five minutes, enduring a frosty silence, and just gazing at the sky with expectant, wide eyes - hopeful for snow. Even though I was eighteen I had not yet accepeted that Christmas morning would come with or without a thick blanket of snow to cover the ground.

Sometime during those five minutes, James had lowered himself down onto the pavement, bent his legs up, and draped his arms over his knees. I could hear him breathing from where I stood, and it was slow, and heavy - a gorgeous disturbation of the silent night.

"Is this good for you?" He asked suddenly, a hand at the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously, and his eyes downcast.

"What? The Holidays?" I turned to look at him, and tucked my hands into my coat pockets.

"No, not necessarily. It's understandable that they're not good for you. I just mean..._Being_ somewhere for the Holidays, _having_ someone for the Holidays...You know?"

It occured to me then, I think. Realizing that I was somewhere other than a cold, dark castle on the Holidays. I was with someone who cared about me, even if it wasn't my own family. My own family wasn't like he was. He was incredible, and warm, and wanted me around for the Holidays. It was like...

There was the strangest feeling going through me as I looked down at him, sitting there on the pavement like some little boy all curled up in anticipation of that Christmas morning he'll not have enough sleep for. It was hard to describe, and hard to put a grasp on. Hard to understand the fact that James Potter could offer me these types of feelings. This sense of security, filled with cold, hard emotions -- But all with so much _care_.

How did it feel, what was it like, was it good for me. Good for me -- So much more. So much. Everything. I needed it. It was...It was..._what was it_? What did this feel like.

And then it hit me.

"Um. You know, I've never really known what home feels like. I always thought I was better off not knowing, because it wouldn't hurt as much to realize that I didn't have it. But...Mmm. I was...I was proved wrong, I guess. Not knowing what home feels like, and then...Then experiencing it. Finding it. Feeling warm, and safe, and loved, and comfortable, and wanted - It was devastating to realize what home felt like and know that I'd...Never had it before. Never _really_ had home. God, it was devastating for about a second, until it hit me how it incredible it was. _Incredible_. It was like coming home. Feeling all of that...James," I cleared my throat as I had rambled on incessantly, and James had stood up rather quickly - alarmed by the state I had fallen into. My hands moved as I spoke, and he watched me intently as if I may collaspe from lack of breathing. If I was to collaspe from anything during these Holidays it would be from the overwhelming existence that was James Potter.

"What Lily?" His voice was even and deep, holding a slightly cautious tone as he took a step towards me.

"You are...When I'm around you, during these past couple of days...It was like coming home. _Being with you_...Is like home to me. I...Does that make sense? It's a bit new to me, it's a bit hard to say that, I know. Not actually knowing what coming home felt like...But I do now. I _do_ know. It's...It's you, you know? It's how you make me feel. It's just something that...that _hit_ me. _Hard_. It hit me so hard to know th-that you - _you_ - are so mu,-"

Quite suddenly he was very _there_, in front of me, and swallowing hard with a bobbing adam's apple, and breathing slowly, and deeply -- Enough to calm me, as well. He'd pick up the pieces if I needed him to. He'd be there if I needed him to. He didn't say either of those things, and was so _silent_, but that _silence_ had been screaming at me for days on behalf of the messy-haired Potter --

He was offering me something. Anything. It was mine for the taking. _He_ was mine for the taking. He was strong, and he wanted me to believe it.

"You don't know how overwhelming you are," He whispered to me, a blast of warm breath meeting my frozen cheeks, and it was surprising to me when I realized it was _his_ warm breath. "I don't know whether to be sorry you've never known what being home feels like, or...Or happy that I can offer you something, _finally._"

A part of me wanted to turn away and mutter some apology for being so weak and being on the brink of a break down. Another part of me _wanted_ to break down, just to see if either of us could handle. And a final part of me wanted to be stubborn and strong, and hold my head high -- Because I was never a girl that _needed_ someone. I never needed saving, or a Hero, or even a role model in my life. I had made it this far almost _completely_ on my own, and I wasn't sure how a girl like me could offer all of her insecurities to the world, and stand there helplessly with her hands at her sides, and a pained expression on her face -- And let somebody else do the fixing up. I didn't know how to be appreciative, or sincere, or anything but a _mess_. An absolute _mess_.

There were times when I _wanted_ a Hero, but didn't know how to go about that. How did somebody who was so _rigid_ go about finding herself a Hero? Did Hero's just fall from the sky? What level of insanity did you have to be at before you got yourself a Hero? Was there any _hope_ left for me? Every night since I saw my sister last, I had thought about how much it _was_ my fault that my parents were only vaugely aware of my exisistence. I berated myself, and just wanted to...to break, you know. Just wanted to _find_ something. Some proof, some light, some familiarity, some home...

And then, there he was.

...

**"I Won't Make You", by Something Corporate.**

I pressed my lips hard together as things between us grew quiet, but every other sound that belonged to the night seemed to magnify. It was as if the midnight traffic moved closer, and you could almost hear the cars whirring by. The slighest breeze picked up, and stung my eyes -- dry from having not blinked in over a minute. I could hear my slightly erratic breathing far too louldy, and parted my lips to try to gain normality with it. My lips grew dry as I took steady sips of the night air through them, and when my tongue darted out to sooth them, James's eyes dashed down to watch this, and then they rested on my nose -- his own seemed to twitch as he looked at mine -- and then he was staring into my eyes again.

There was a step left between us that I didn't really expect him to take, yet when he did, it seemed as if it was where he should've been standing all along. This night was that of what was found in _poetry_. I was living in a bloody _poem_ on Christmas Eve. This boy, and this girl, standing in the middle of an empty, midnight street, surrounded by familiar scents of Christmases passed, and...It could've been incredible, had I let it be.

He took that step with his shoulders as broad as they could be, and at his fullest height -- And placed his hands gently on my upper arms, with the slighest exhalation of breath that could've been a sigh.

That stare that he had so bravely held - was broken, and he seemed to, rather, concentrate on what he was doing with his hands. His grip tightened slightly, and he pulled me closer, my head would've come to rest against his chest had I been a bit more flexible, and realized just what this was.

"What're you doing." I tried to breathe, in some croaky fashion, but the words died in my throat just as he pulled me swiftly against him, and my arms seemed to act on instinct, wrapping high around his back.

His hands slid away from my arms, and one tangled itself in the ends of my hair, while the other tickled the back of my ungloved hand, in some sweet sense that was _utterly lost_ on me.

It was _probably _fifteen seconds. No, it _was_ fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds that just absolutely flew by, and I hardly realized what has _happened_ in those fifteen seconds. But there was something about those fifteen seconds that felt like the beginning of a lifetime.

James looked positively..._serious_ as we pulled apart. The pun my own thoughts had brought on didn't really occur to me. I couldn't imagine, honestly, anybody but James right now. _The_ actual Sirius was a world away, it felt like it had been some accurately coloured _dream_. And this, here with James _-- now --_ was real. Was _all_ that was real. Was _all_ I really knew, and god _damn it_, I was so wide-eyed, and naive when it came to...To him.

My thoughts were always a bit irrational. A bit all over the place, and crazy. Mixed up, and dramatic. But at the center of every one of my thoughts was some _raw_, distinct, burning truth. Some hard realization, or some sudden awe. I could sit and think long and hard about something, and get no where -- And the next second I could be making decisions and judgements with hardly a second's doubt.

Somewhere along the way, I think, something damaged me a bit. Something hurt me beyond my own realization and control, and I started becoming who I was. I turned into this..._girl. _This...this girl with her head in the clouds, but this girl who would never dare to think outside of the box. I wasn't often taken care of when I was a child, I just grew up being independent, and that's what was so unbelievably hard with sharing my life with someone else; with letting people in.

Self-proclaimed? I was a bitter, jaded, lonely girl. In the eyes of another? I was innocent, rough around the edges, and somehow beauty radiated through that. And to James Potter?...

I'd never fully understand. We weren't perfect. Nothing we'd come to have was perfect, even when I'd like to think it was. Our pasts were foggy; sometimes dark. Our thoughts were blurry; I spoke too fast, and him too quiet. He offered me the world when I just wanted one, sole thing. I wanted the world when he offered me himself. He wanted freedom when I wanted to _cling_. He wanted me to cling, when I wanted to run.

We contrasted one another in this way that could've been devastating. In a way that could have been damaging, and hateful, but just _worked_ for us. He just _worked_ for me. It just happened, you know, him and me. We happened in a dark time. _I found myself_ in years of twisted, dark, hate -- It just seemed everything in my life was a contradiction.

Like hugging James Potter right then. It was just a hug. This delicate, rather awkward, embrace that lasted all of _fifteen seconds_, and it meant nothing -- But at the same time it meant _the world_.

As we pulled away, and took our respective steps back, I tilted my head a bit, and tried to stare up into his eyes. All I could really make out through the relative dark was my own reflection, and that of the large moon, in his glasses. It was fitting that I couldn't see into his eyes after something like that. You know, because he may be showing signs of...Of something other than _strength_ and integrity. He may be the lesser half of this friendship for once.

The whole night sighed collectively, and I was finally smiling at him. I hated who he was at times, but only because I envied who he was. I _wanted _who he was. That strength, and integrity. That ability to make your world shake with realization and warmth. His height, his posture, his lean, casual frame.

There was a change in him, eventually. Not so much a change as a breakthrough. Realizing and accepting he wasn't able to hold everybody up forever. Realizing he had the right to let the truth crash down, and hurt people who he didn't want to see hurt. He didn't need to be everybody's rock. He didn't need to be _perfect_. And God, he sure as Hell exercised his rights to be flawed.

As shocking as it was for him to become so brutal, and stubborn-minded it also suited him. The change in him may have threw me off a bit when it first came, but...Then it just made sense. It was what I expected, and it made me want to _fight_ him everytime we spoke. It may _me_ stronger in a way, but on this bloody Christmas Eve it just seemed _so_ far off. It seemed as if that soft-spoken, nice guy was _all_ he was. I guess he just decided to prove us wrong.

"You going to stay the way you are, James?" I asked quietly, as we made our way off of the street, back to the driveway.

"Mmm...I doubt it. Only 'til we can handle more." He responded, with a quirk of his lips, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

And he had answered. He had responded easily, and simply, and honestly. Only until we could handle more. I knew that neither of us thought that would ever be the case.

Christmas morning happened, I supposed, before anybody really accepted that it would. It just came so quickly that as prepared as everybody seemed -- It was a surprise. But it was just as Christmas morning was meant to be, with a fresh blanket of snow that fell during the night, and pale sunlight greeting us a couple of hours after we greeted the morning. And as edgy and awkward as everybody had been in the days leading up to Christmas, it was all sure to be gone, because Christmas has this magical aspect to it -- whether you're in the Wizardry world or not -- that can affect you even in the summer months. There's always this secret yearning for the warm, homey feeling of Christmas, and I highly doubted that Mrs Potter would let that be ruined just because she didn't see eye-to-eye with me.

It was 6:30, and rather dark out, when I was woke that morning. I put a cashmere sweater on over my holiday-themed pajamas, brushed my teeth, and was greeted by the youngest bouncing Potter in the hallway outside of my bedroom. Lexi's curls were rather messed, and she looked as if she could fall over asleep at any second, but she wore a grin, and her eyes were absolutely _bright_, and _blue_.

I didn't really see the family resemblance between Lexi and James until that morning. (And when Danielle got pregnant so late in life, and then had a baby that didn't look much like her husband -- Questions arose. More of the mid-life drama I'd come to know later. This beautiful blue-eyed, blonde haired baby girl that only really looked like Dani for the first few years. Dani had lighter hair when she was younger -- That's where the blonde came from. But nobody considered that, all that really mattered was the fact _Danielle _and _Jude Potter's_ change-of-life baby may not be so much _Jude's_ as he seemed to think. It put a strain on things, and they still worked through it.)

All of their passion, and love, and flare for life was in their eyes. James's were this smoldering hazel colour, and Lexi's almost the complete opposite -- Gorgeously blue, but both sets of eyes were alive and beautiful, and narrowed when they considered things. Both had perfect sets of lashes. Lexi's were long and curled out; James's were dark and thick. The Potter in them both resided in their eyes.

"Is everybody up?" I asked Lexi quietly, while a completely foreign -- yet oddly familiar -- feeling fluttered into my stomach.

She nodded. "Mummy just woke James up, and told me to come see if you were up. Happy Christmas, Lily!" She took off down the hall, giggling madly, the pretty little nightgown she was wearing almost tripping her as she ran.

Then I realized just what that fluttering feeling was -- _Christmas_. I didn't recall being excited for Christmas since I was nine or ten, but this just felt so...Real, and right. There was a sense of warm drowsiness hanging in the atmosphere, but some spark of anticipation woke us all up, and beckoned us to the living room, where a fire was already crackling merrily in the hearth.

"Merry Christmas, Lily." James and I met up on the second set of stairs going down -- his parents and Lexi's floor. He was just coming from his parents bedroom, Jude had descended the stairs just before him, and as he wished me a Merry Christmas I was suddenly aware of the fact that I hadn't brushed my hair when I woke up.

My hands flew to tame my hair, as I stood on the stair below the one James was on. He, of course, looked handsome with absolutely no effort on any given morning, so why should Christmas morning be any different? His hair was a bit flyaway -- which brought back memories of just-won Qudditch matches for some reason -- but he held that casually sophisticated look, what with his thin-framed glasses, green & navy plaid pajama pants, and grey sweatshirt.

I couldn't help but feel a bit inferior to him just then. He was tall anyway, but being a stair above me just made him that much taller, and for some reason him being just that much taller made me feel small and a bit insignificant. Usually I loved his height and how protective it made him seem, but not this morning while I was stood in my bloody _candy-cane _pajamas. I felt like a _child_.

Deep down I knew it was my own fault I felt like a child, and at times _seemed_ like a child. It was on my own accord that I was standing before him on Christmas morning in candy-cane pajamas. It was me who assumed everybody was talking to me as if I couldn't handle hearing the truth. I was, perhaps subconciously, _trying_ to feel like a child, because then I would be safe and protected and not have to worry about anything. It was my first Christmas morning away from Hogwarts for a few years, and just maybe I wanted to remember feeling so _loved_, just maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to come off absolutely childish.

Being so unbelievably absorbed in my thoughts I turned away from James without even responding to him. It's usually just a reflex, to wish a Merry Christmas in return, but there was something awfully striking about this morning, and I didn't quite realize the severity of furrowing one's brow, and turning swiftly away from a 'Merry Christmas' on Christmas morning.

"Lily, c'mon, wait," James had the furrow in his brow this time, as he quickly went down the stairs behind me, grabbing onto the crook of my elbow and holding me back. "Listen to me."

I turned around and tilted my head up at him, chewing my bottom lip and not understanding how I could turn pages so quickly. James had said that once, that I turned pages faster than he could keep up with. It was the truth.

"This must be Hell for you, and I could stand here and apologize all morning for everything that has gone wrong, is going to go wrong, and could go wrong sometime in the near future, but I'd much rather stand here and _promise_ you a Merry Christmas despite it all, and ask you to believe me." He wrapped his long, warm, and calloused fingers around my wrists in a rather tight grip but in one that made me come crashing back to reality.

"Yes, I'm," I pulled my hands away from him, and put them to my face, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just,-"

"You're shaking." He interrupted me, pulling me close to him, and stroking his fingers up and down my right forearm.

"I know, but it feels nice," I murmured, nearly resting my head against his chest, but stopping an inch short of it. "It's just a mixture of being relatively cold, and...And Christmas morning. This is how Christmas morning would always feel, I'd just shake at random intervals, and it'd be some sort of appreciated relief..."

"All right, Lily." James smiled warmly and gave my hand a squeeze before leading the way into the living room.

Everyone wished each other a 'Merry Christmas' as Lexi sat on the floor near the tree, hardly containing her excitement.

"Would you like some tea, Lily?" Mrs Potter asked sweetly as me and James situated ourselves on the couch.

"I...What? Yes, I mean. Please. Yes please." As I stumbled over my accepting of her offer James rubbed the bridge of his nose, and Mr Potter chuckled to himself. I had a strange feeling that had spoke to his wife this morning, as James had spoke to me.

Mrs Potter excused herself to the kitchen, and Lexi started making impatient sighs.

I smiled.

Happy Holidays  
Lexi, Jude, and Dani.

I received five gifts from the three Pottes, and that's how each tag was signed, in large, loopy handwriting. Mrs Potter's.

My favourite was an absolutely _gorgeous_ emerald green sweater that was so unbelievably soft -- Mrs Potter said she had picked it out, and it was charmed to feel so soft. It matched my eyes, she told me.

There was also a silver charm bracelet -- Lexi picked it out, and had one like it she told me --, a box of assorted flavoured tea, a large candle that smelled like _egg nog_ I swear, and finally a book.

And then it was gone. Or at least that hour and some minutes of opening presents was gone. Christmas morning was near gone. It was rushed and warm and lovely and confusing and _gone._ It had taken so long for it to come, and it had been such a stubborn thing in everybody's minds for the past few weeks -- And all we had to show for it was torn wrapping paper and bows laying about on the floor where we sat opening the gifts. My things were sat in a neat pile on the couch, and I was wondering if I had stopped smiling since I sat down there.

The gifts Mr & Mrs Potter gave to their children were _ridiculously extravagant._ Their other relatives had given them money, mainly. James & Lexi had given Mrs Potter some expensive looking necklace and matching earrings, and their father an interesting looking gadget that made no sense to me. But the things that Mr & Mrs Potter had given to James & Lexi were so...Abundant, for lack of a better word. There was so much, and it was all wrapped so neat, and you could just tell that each gift was considered greatly and meant only for the child it was given to.

I appreciated my gifts greatly, but I was sure I couldn't hide my disbelief as present after present was placed before James or Lexi.

All in all Christmas morning was like I remembered Christmas morning to be, and it was nice to know I hadn't lost myself.

When it came time for the Potter's to open my gifts I was so _embarrassed_ and flustered, and couldn't remember for a moment just what I had bought this distinguished family.

Lexi, though, was so enchanted by her Barbie and when she opened the toy kitten I had given her she suddenly decided it needed a real one to be friends with.

I had got Mr Potter a book on cars and a box of cigars and he seemed to like it, but honestly all I really cared about was whether Mrs Potter liked her gifts, or at least would _pretend_ to. And she seemed to, I guess. She positively beamed when she opened them, and said she loved teapots, and I felt rather accomplished, save for the fact that James & I had come to some silent decision to exchange gifts when we were on our own, and I was a bit nervous about facing him again that morning. I did not want to break down.

It was nearly eight o'clock when everything had been cleaned up -- magically -- and admired, and the Potter's put their piles of gifts beneath the tree again, leaving them on display. I carried mine up to my room, deciding to change from my pajamas and get a shower. Breakfast would be at 9 o'clock, and Mrs Potter seemed to be expecting Melly & her family to be over for the meal.

I took my time in the warm shower, and dried my hair a bit so it would curl nicely. I wore the sweater the Potter's gave me for Christmas, and a knee-length black skirt, with a satiny sash around the waist that almost matched the colour of the sweater.

With a sigh I brushed some mascara onto my eyelashes, and smoothed some lipgloss on. Honestly, I wasn't too concerned with prettying myself up this early in the morning. It felt a bit awkward, really, to be wearing something other than pajamas on Christmas morning. But this whole _experience_ felt a bit awkward, and I wasn't about to deny the Holidays that.

I picked James's gifts up -- this was about the third time I had put them under the tree and then brought them back upstairs with me -- and left the room, feeling a nervous shudder trail down my spine.

The sun was finally starting to brighten things up a bit, though there was some grey haze to the sky that kept everything surreal feeling. I trailed my fingertips down the banister while going down the stairs, liking the subtle warmth that was coming through the window in the form of sunlight, and resting on the banister in some faded orange glow.

The large house was rather chilly this morning, or at least it was on this floor. The slight chill kept me awake and aware, though.

Something that had been delved deep inside of me seemed to stumble forth, and I came to a stop on the second floor, not going down the next set of stairs -- Just letting this realization spread. Of where I was stood. And why I was there. And who I was involved with.

_Why haven't you run yet, Lily,_ I asked myself shaking my head and trying to get the feeling of...this...this uncertainty to shake away, as well.

It was about 9 o'clock when I came downstairs, and placed James's presents on the couch, and just as he appeared in the doorway of the living room there was a knock at the door. He gave me a smile and I followed him to the front door as he pulled it open.

It was a gorgeous looking Melly, her parents, and somebody near the bottom of the stairs that I couldn't recognize, as he was well bundled up, but I assumed it was a member of Melly's family.

"Happy Christmas! Come in, come in," James beckoned the -- Lewis -- family inside, and offered to take their coats. "You look lovely this morning, Sherry."

Melly's Mum was a pretty woman, and obviously not as old at James's parents, nor as young as my own. Her father, Charles, was a handsome, distinguished man, and seemed rather the strong, silent type.

"I'll get the door." I said, smiling at Melly who positively beamed back at me. There was something off-putting, yet at the same time nice about her.

The man who had been standing at the bottom of the stairs had approached the top step, and just...He just stood there for a moment, me holding the door open looking off in another direction and not realizing he hadn't come in until the sharp morning air met me.

"Are you going to,-" I began, turning to look at the man who had a hat on, and large winter jacket. He wasn't a tall, or large man. He was rather small-framed, but could come off forceful if he needed to. His hair was sandy coloured, and his eyes were a hazel-green, though the green protruded more. He had a rather dark complexion, and a rather chiseled chin. Lines rested near his eyes, though he still held the youth that I so well remembered about him.

He was Ethan Evans -- My father.

Melly, James, and Mr & Mrs Lewis had gone into the kitchen by now, and I was just stood staring at this familiar face though it seemed it had been gone from my memory for decades.

"What're you doing here." I hissed at him in a quick whisper, pushing the door shut until there was only enough space for me to stand between, blocking his way in.

"I didn't think it was a crime to want to see your daughter at Christmas time."

I was in disbelief. Disbelief didn't even begin to describe it, but it was all I knew to think. Disbelief. But what right did I have to be in any sort of disbelief? To be in any sort of shock over the fact my Father was standing on the doorstep of James's house on Christmas morning? I had no right. I had no right to be angry over this, but _I was._ My cheeks were absolutely burning, as were my eyes because I hadn't blinked since I realized it was him. My bare legs were getting rather numb and cold due to the open door and bitter morning, but apparently a part of me refused to just...Let him in.

It wasn't that much of a surprise, I guess. I had left the Potter's address with Petunia in case of an emergency, and I should've known she would've told either Mum or Dad that I was at a _boys_ house, a _freak_ of a _boy_ none the less.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't know I was at a boys house." I murmured, blinking my watering eyes excessively for a moment, before focusing them back on my _father._

He sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his large, ungloved, hands that were discoloured because of the cold.

"Could you let me in, please, sweetheart?"

I began to shake my head, just as James entered the hallway again, asking me why I was still standing at the door.

As if I had been _burned_ by one of them I stepped back from the door quickly, and stared at James as he saw the man at the door, and looked curiously towards me.

"This is, um, this is my...My father. Ethan. Dad, this is..." James was suddenly right next to me and resting a warm hand upon my shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and then removing it. "This is James."

"Ah, so this is the boy," Dad stepped inside, and tugged his hat off, and put it in his pocket, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

"Nice to meet you." He offered his hand to James, and he shook it, offering a nod.

"I'll be right back." I gave him a pleading look but he ignored me easily, and left the hallway with a hard stare at my father.

"_Nice to meet you_. That's not true. You don't care -- What're you doing here, Dad?" I tried to stay calm, but that shaken state I had been earlier that morning was quickly returning and the tremors were much worse.

Dad swallowed and nodded, shrugging his shoulders, and rubbing his arm.

"Petunia told me last night that you had been around, and I was surprised. She told me the address that you were staying at, and just happened to mention you were at some random boys house. Lily, dear -- You're _seventeen_ for God's sake, you shouldn't be spending Christmas,-"

"Eighteen. I'm eighteen years old, Dad." I shook my head, and put a hand to my forehead, smoothing my hair back.

He looked sympathetic for a moment, but then was back to playing the protective father. "Whatever the case, you shouldn't _be_ here. Rebecca and myself are leaving for our trip tomorrow, and I think -- we think -- that you should come with us this year, since you're already home,-"

"I'm _not_ home! I'm at James's for Christmas, and you're not dragging me away on some cruise with you and your broad just because you've not been paying enough attention to me to know what's going on in my life."

I refused to become any sort of hysterical, but this man showing up on James's doorstep, they had a nice doorstep at that, and declared he was going to drag me off with his girlfriend on their cruise for the first time in the 4 years they had been taking them was just absolutely _absurd_. It wasn't any fair to me, I decided that long ago.

"Lily," His voice was lowered dangerously, but my nose just flared at this and I attempted to stand taller. "I don't know this boy, Petunia doesn't know this boy, your mother most likely doesn't know this boy, and I don't think it's appropriate nor flattering for you to be spending the holidays with him, and _imposing_."

He took a step closer to me, outstretching his palms and looking as if he was going to try to hug me, or sooth me or something -- But I really didn't want it.

My dad was always a rational, good man. Always. He and Mum divorced, but neither of them were having any extra-marital affairs, and he was a good sport about losing a lot of what he worked for to her. He was an honest man, and worked hard. He was fun-loving, and loved to travel, and just get caught up in life. But _just_ because he was all of those things to every other person in his life doesn't mean he was that way to me. He treated me like a child, always. It must've had something to do with the fact I left home for Hogwarts at such a young age, and he only ever really saw me during the summers, not long enough to realize I had grown up any, and deserved to be treated like I had. To my father, it seemed, I was still some ten year old girl, with braids in her hair, and an innocent smile upon her face. I still needed protection and shelter from the world, even though I had long since grown accustom to taking care of myself. He just didn't see it, and that was always part of the problem.

"Another part of the problem, Lily," James told me at some point. "Is you. Just who you are, and how you are -- Stubborn and resilient and hell bent on convincing yourself you're alone."

I was going to say something. I had to say something, and would be a bit of a coward if I didn't say something. But I just stared at my Dad, wondering who the hell this man was, and why he seemed so ashamed of me. Why he seemed to think I should be ashamed to be here.

When the words didn't come right away, my Father went to step through the doorway, but I shook my head and tried to tell him to leave.

Just as my Father's hand met the door roughly and pushed it back, Lexi emerged from the kitchen, evaluated the situation, and then bloody well _screamed_.

"Mummy! Lily's fighting with a man!" A second later Mrs Potter burst through the kitchen door and stood staring at me struggling to shut the door on my Father.

"What are you doing! Shut that door. It's _frigid_ out there!" Melly, and Mr & Mrs Lewis were the next to come through the swinging kitchen door, and they looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"What's going on?" Melly asked loudly over Lexi's shrill whines and Mrs Potter trying to calm her whilst berate me.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Melly's mother commented, turning to her husband who loudly responded to her.

"Who are these people, Lily?" My dad shouted over the commotion, and I just stepped away from the door, while he pushed it open wider, and I looked around helplessly at the sudden mess these people seemed to be in.

"Lexi!" I heard Mrs Potter shriek as she ran towards my Father and frowned up at him, opening her mouth to say something, that only resulted in a high-pitched wail as Melly picked her up and moved her away. Melly's parents began flying off the handle at her for interferring, and I put my hands over my ears, disbelieving this few of people could be so loud and awkward in a situation like this.

Then the kitchen door swung open a final time, and James came through with Jude right behind him. I tilted my head and offered a pleading look, and Jude nodded curtly as James tried to get to me.

My Father was trying to get my attention over the noise, and Mrs Potter was shouting something in the general direction of where I was standing, but I couldn't pay attention.

"That's enough!" Jude boomed, clapping his hands together loudly, once, and gaining everyone's stares.

I shut the door as my Father stepped inside, and I leaned against it, resting my forehead against it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I murmured, tapping my forehead against the door repeatedly, trying to fight fire with fire, and ease the pounding in my head _by_ pounding my head.

"Sherry, Charles if you could excuse us for a moment. I apologize." Jude said, and they nodded understandingly, going back to the kitchen as Melly led Lexi in, too.

"Jude, I _told_ you,-" Mrs Potter began, but Jude shook his head gruffly, frowning in thought at his wife.

"Actually, darling. If you could excuse us as well...?"

Mrs Potter's eyebrows raised in unpleasant surprise, and she went back into the kitchen without so much a glance at Jude.

Jude sighed, and rubbed his temples, turning to look at my Father.

"Mr Evans, I assume." Dad nodded at Jude's very business-like way, and they shook hands.

"Ethan." Dad said, as Jude went over to the doorway of the living room.

"I'm Jude Potter, and perhaps we should step into my study?" It was in the form of a question, but it wasn't actually a question -- More like a bit of a firm request.

It surprised me, but in a bit of a satisfied way, to see my Father follow after Jude so easily, and without a question. Jude was often superior, and there was just something that seemed to _radiate_ around him. There came a time, shortly after these Holidays, when that bald-headed man was the only father-figure I had in my life.

I forgot for a moment that James was still standing in the hallway with me, as I was still leaning against the door and breathing deeply.

"What the hell was that, Lily?" He asked quietly, his voice low, and his proximity close.

I was struggling to keep my voice steady, and stop my body from shaking again.

"What was that? That wasn't my fault, that's what it was. _It wasn't my fault._" I turned away from the door, and reached for James. He obliged, letting me stand close against him but not actually wrapping his arms around me or touching me anywhere.

My head was pounding and I tried to recall the number of things Dani had thrown my way admist the confusion and loud voices. I swore she had said, just before Jude interrupted, that she wanted me out of her house.

Though I should've felt abandoned, and I should've felt rather hated -- I didn't. I felt...just so drained, and standing on the edge of _insanity_. This Christmas was full of _lies_. This Christmas _was_ a bloody lie. It was a lie. This morning, as good as it started off, was a lie. I should've known better than to think it'd last, that Mrs Potter would stay pleasant and sweet -- Apparently like she always is.

"Are you going to go with him?" James muttered after a minute of just..._holding his breath_ with me. Silence was all I really wanted just then.

"No," I shook my head and it brushed against his chest. "No. God, James, everybody just _overreacted_."

"It's who they are," He sighed, and took a step back from me, staring down at me, and trying to see my face.

"You're not crying, are you?" James asked tentatively, brushing his hands over my face to be sure when I shook my head 'no'.

"I'm sorry." I told him, moving away from him and sitting down on the first stair leading upstairs.

He just crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall by the staircase -- Waiting, it seemed.

I leaned back against the stair above the one I was sitting on, and watched him through half-closed eyes. I wondered if he hated me for what I did. For...who I was, and _how_ I was. How when my world got turned upside down lately -- His did, too. Because of me. Because I was here.

**"The Middle", by Jimmy Eat World.**

He had his hazel eyes closed, and his arms folded over his chest, taking slow, deep breaths -- James was obviously still tired. A few times he yawned silently, covered his mouth with his hand, and then folded his arms again.

There were circles beneath his eyes, but they were circles he was beginning to wear proudly, what with the lack of sleep he was getting lately. He had changed into a pair of dark-rinsed jeans, and a white button down, with navy stripes running vertically over it. The cuffs were unbuttoned, and he could have buttoned a few more up near the neck, but I wasn't one to complain over his casual look, and his almost-revealed chest.

His hair was an absolute _mess _this morning, but it was just starting to grow out some from his neat, shorter haircut that he had when he first came back from the summer, and when it was more shaggy it just added to his undeniable good looks. Made him seem a little darker, a little tough.

Ten minutes had passed since Jude escorted my father into his study, and James and me hadn't talked since I sat down on the stairs. I thought, maybe, he had fell asleep, leaning against the wall, but when he said my name I quickly looked to him.

"Lily," He muttered again, through a bit of a sigh.

"Yeah, James?" I sat up straighter, and waited for it...waited...

He looked serious as he pulled his eyes open and I couldn't help but wonder, I didn't _want_ to know what he was thinking. Not this time. I just...

"Maybe you...Maybe you should go home with your Dad."

**Oh my God, I love you guys so much, and am sorry this took, like, over a month. I just really hope you guys like it, because the one thing I can promise you is that I worked _hard_ on it.**

**So, in order for this story to stay up on this website I had to remove the songs from the chapters, though in my original I have the songs in it. I'm posting the songs in my livejournal, and I'm posting my replies to your reviews from _last_ chapter in my livejournal, as well. So, if songs or replies are important to you -- Check out my livejournal. The link's in my profile.**

**Kaitlyn.**


	16. Pride

**Chapter 16**  
"Pride"

**abc.**

**"Nothing Like You and I", by the Perishers.**

**abc.**

**December 29th.**

Pride. It was a damaging, cruel, blinding thing. It was something that each person needed. A sense of pride, a sense of self-assurance. At the very essence of all of us there is some blazing _pride_, that some people absolutely thrive on.

Sirius Black was proud. Nobody really knew why, because he was obviously ashamed of his family, and his past, but he was still one of the only people I knew who could be so proud, and carry himself so well. He was, of course, a bit cocky from time to time. A bit arrogant, a bit know-it-all. But his _pride_ was something different from those things. His _pride_ was the one thing you could relate him to. It's the one thing that stood out about him. It completed him. It, absolutely, made him who he was.

He was such a hard person to forget. It was impossible to forget him. You could go without him for long periods of time and still have the picture perfect vision of him in your mind. That was because...He came in such large doses. He was so much at one time, so overwhelming, and so dizzying -- That if you didn't speak to him for weeks, then started to again it would be as if you never stopped. Being around, being _with_ Sirius was like you have been there for him your whole life. He made everything so easy, and casual, despite the fact he truly was a _heavy_, _dark_ person who would become almost as bitter as Remus.

Sirius's dark hair, grey, seemingly impenetrable eyes, and easy demeanor matched him. And with his looks suiting who he was just fine, it seemed as if that _pride_ of his just...Radiated about him. But in a very subtle, respectful way.

He held his head a bit higher than everybody else, and the weight on his shoulders was not as heavy as anybody else's. His ways were simple, though the intense simplicity of them came across rather complex. He believed lying was alright as long as it wasn't a matter of life and death; he believed rules were meant to be broken; he believed in heaven but not hell; he believed in life after death; he believed in love; he believed that women were the most intricate things put on the earth, and that the only reason they were there were to be _loved_, and respected.

But the _single_, utmost _important_ thing that Sirius Black believed in, was something he taught me to believe in, too.

Himself.

**abc.**

It was impossible not to believe in him. It was impossible not to believe every word that came out of his mouth. Even when he was lying, and you just _knew_ he was, you wanted to believe him, because the world of lies he had been creating his whole life was a beautiful, flawless world. A beautiful, flawless world that he thought very few deserved to live in.

If he told you everything was going to be all right, then believe me -- Everything was going to be all right. Sirius held your best interests are heart. He wanted you to believe things were a certain way, because he hated to see anymore people become jaded, cynical, and bitter. He was positively afraid everyone would be like that some day, and while a few jaded cynics balances the population out a bit -- Sirius was rather determined to keep everyone around him...Sane. How did he do that? Driving them insane, I suppose, with his...His absolute mind-blowing questions, his statements that turned you upside down, and his smile that was what he thought to be the only _genuine_ thing about a person.

Pride being the damaging, cruel, blinding thing that it was -- It made apologies hard. It made apologies...Insincere, and impersonal. I doubted Sirius had ever said the word 'sorry' and _wanted_ to say it. I doubted he had ever said it on his own will, and sincerely meant it with everything he was.

So, when December 29th came about, and I was seeing Sirius Black for the first time in about five days -- I wasn't expecting that apology, in the most sincere form it could come in. Him with hunched shoulders, and a slight frown, murmuring his apology not once, but twice.abc.

It was about 10 o'clock in the morning, I was still very much at the Potter's, and I realized that it appeared to be awhile since Sirius had shaved. His face was covered in a dark stubble, though it wasn't near thick enough to be considered a beard. He wore a pair of dark blue-jeans, a blue-striped white button-down beneath a half-zipped navy sweater. He had swept his dark lockes away from his eyes, and had a rather set expression on his face.

The Potter's and whatever company was over this morning were in the kitchen, finishing off a late breakfast. Sirius and Remus hadn't been over since Christmas Eve, and...Here he was. I was in a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt when he stumbled upon me coming down the stairs, with folded arms to keep me warm.

His eyes seemed to...Dance for a moment, as they followed me down the stairs, and over to where he stood.

"You know what happened a few days ago? Me acting like some kind of arsehole over what Remus told me?" Sirius began abruptly, looking to the floor, but then staring determinedly at me.

"Yes." I replied after a moment, rather taken aback and sounding so.

"I'm sorry," Quiet at first, a sigh following, and then louder. "_I'm sorry_," His frown was a gorgeous attribute to his features, I couldn't help but think, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I had no _business_ going there. I had no business taking it personally, or whatever. I just, I thought about it -- And it was for good reason you didn't tell me, you know? It makes sense. It was...I don't know. I just want you to know I'm sorry for what I said to you." He nodded slightly, and took a step back, seemingly awaiting some sort of sign I had accepted his attempts at an apology.

"Thank you, Sirius." I replied easily, my lips feeling rather dry, and my attire nothing short of disheveled, but the way he looked at a person -- He made you feel beautiful, just paying attention to you.

He swallowed, and nodded again.

"That wasn't easy for you." I said with a slight smile.

And Sirius grinned.

**abc.**

Him and I, on that December 29th, found ourselves sitting together in the living room -- He still had a pair of roughed up looking...cowboy boots on, I noticed as he propped his feet onto the coffee table.

He seemed to be trying to act very...au courant. He folded his arms gently, offered me a small smile, and focused his attention on the television.

But he _wanted to know_ what had been going on the past few days. He _didn't_ know what had been going on. James and myself had been, basically, deserted for five days. _Five days_. Sirius wasn't even close to being au courant. He had _no idea_ what could have gone on between James and myself for those five days. And no matter how sorry he was, and no matter how much it was just my and James's business -- I knew Sirius wanted -- nay, needed -- to know.

"Sirius," I sighed, drawing his attention to me, and he offered a quick smile before turning, ironically, serious.

I had barely opened my mouth to say something, when he...He started talking. It's not such a strange thing, because...People talk. Sirius talks. It's a normal, completely _expected_ thing. But when Sirius began talking that morning, he began talking like I hadn't really heard him talk before. His voice got right deep, and right quiet, and I had to lean in close to hear what he was saying.

He began scrunching his nose up and then releasing it, and then flicking the end of it with his index finger bent. It was some kind of...Revelation. Sirius Black did get nervous.

"I understand, Lily, that I may not know you as well as, say -- James. But I do know that I was the first boy to kiss those lips of yours, and I take bloody _pride_ in knowing that fact. And I'd never kiss you again -- If it meant that nobody else would, either."

I could hardly _help_ but smile. It was just...Sweet. And usually Sirius Black and sweet were quite the contradiction in terms, but maybe...Maybe he thought he'd get to me. Maybe he just got like that around me. Maybe once he did get to me. Maybe he thought I would kiss _him_, and we'd be back to that unknown, grey area of not quite more than friends, but not quite just friends. I never thought I'd see the day when I was a 'friend with benefits' to someone. I never thought I'd see the day when _I'd_ have a friend with benefits.

And despite my smile, and the fact he was a gorgeous boy who wanted to salvage kissing me in order to make sure nobody else would either --

I had to say it.

"Sirius," I hated myself for using an obvious tone. That tone that everybody uses when they're trying to break bad news, or they're about to shatter somebody's dreams. That delicate, sincere tone that you use, and you reach a hand out to touch the person's arm --

That's what I did.

His features were set in a deep frown, and he did not blink once as he looked at me. His eyes were so pretty...But no, I had to say it.

"I can promise you that I will be kissing other boys."

**abc.**

**December 25th.**

**abc.**

"Maybe you...Maybe you should go home with your Dad."

I supposed I stared at James for much too long after he said that. It was a suggestion that absolutely killed me. It lacked strength. It lacked integrity. It lacked..._Pride_. But it was something James Potter was often missing. Pride. He probably came from one of the most _proud_ families in the Wizarding World, but how _couldn't_ he have any? How could he be such a damn pushover at times.

And the first words out of my mouth were almost as bad as his suggestion.

"Did you honestly just say that? James -- Why should I go with him? God, you're such a _coward._"

It was apparent to me that the _only_ reason he wanted me to go with my Father was because things hadn't worked out too well with me and his Mum. In a split second James Potter appeared to me as a selfish coward who wanted the easy way out in this.

He ignored my last comment, and spoke as if he were calm at the moment.

"_Why_? Because he's your Dad! What more is there to say?"

I frowned at him, and positioned myself more comfortably on the stair, pressing my back against the wall, and folding my arms.

"What more could you say? How about -- You _invited_ me here for the Holidays, and at the first sign of something messing up, you want me to leave. And _yes_, he is my Father, but he's...He's been so gone from my life for _so_ long. I've grown up without him, and,-"

"You're not a _maverick_, Lily. As independent as you _try_ to seem, you absolutely _cling_ to people, and I was just thinking -- Hey, you needparents. The only reason I suggested you go with your Dad was because after the whole house for sale incident, I thought maybe you'd _want_ to try to...To get something back in your life. Acheive normality again. Be a teenager with some weight off her shoulders," James pushed himself off the wall, was turning to walk away, and in the midst of shaking his head when he abruptly turned back to me.

His eyes were narrowed hard as if he were trying to peer through some thick fog. He thought I was being completely irrational, of course.

"Hell, Lily -- Stop acting so bloody _stubborn_, and...Proud. That man in there's your father, and you have no business turning him away. Not now. If you do now, you're just..." He trailed off, as I shut my eyes, and leaned my head back against the wall.

I could've cried. I wanted to cry. It felt appropriate for me to cry right now, because this _boy_ was destroying me. In every possible way.

James Potter made me feel so _alive_. He made me feel like I was significant and that every thing I did would somehow impact this whole _world_ -- Or at least the world of those around me. But at the same time he made me feel...Tiny, insignificant and overlooked. But in a beautiful way. In a beautiful way that stopped me from worrying so much about what I did, what I said, who I was to fall in love with. I was living better, breathing easier, feeling..._young_ for the first time in years. It was pleasant to know this world was going to keep going on whether I was with it or not. But it was also pretty nice to know that my existence did, somehow, effect this place. And at the very least James proved to me -- My existence did, somehow, effect him.

**abc.**

"You are insignificant to the universe, Lily. It couldn't care less whether you live or die. I can tell you, though, it's quite a different story in my eyes."

**abc.**

And so I wasn't going to cry this Christmas morning. I could have very easily. But at this early in the game it wasn't fair to let that boy know he was _destroying_ me.

I stayed leaning against the wall, breathing steadily and trying to catch the breath that had escaped me for a moment. James had stood there the whole time, after trailing off and leaving his sentence so incredibly exposed, and had not yet said anything else.

When I pried my eyes open, there he was. Standing a few feet away, running a hand through his hair, and tipping his head to the side, gazing at me with raised eyebrows, and steadily blinking eyes.

"It's already happened, hasn't it," He said in an easy murmur.

"What has?" And me speaking, looking so pale this morning, and rather fragile, I assumed, in my dainty attire -- (**reminder: skirt w/ sash, and sweater**.) -- that just didn't seem to suit me, affirmed his question.

"You've become this...This incredible...Stand up," He took a few steps forward and offered me his hand to pull myself up from the stair. I stood up without accepting his hand, though, and just stayed at the bottom of the steps. I awkwardly put my hands on my hips and stared at him with a hard frown.

He studied me for a moment, his eyes darting this way and that taking in the outfit I was wearing, and the length of my legs. He licked his lips as he prepared to speak what I guessed would be a long ramble.

"Bloody hell -- This incredible woman. You've become this incredible woman, and...And that _man_ in there is really only that to you, isn't he? A man who is your father, only because his blood runs through your veins, too. You've gone on and become somebody -- And your father...Doesn't even know you. Am I right? He doesn't even know this own _daughter_."

It stung for a moment. Reality sinking in, I supposed. I was abandoned at some point, and hadn't even realized it. My parents had moved on with their lives, and left their daughter to her own devices. My parents, in some ways, were quite like the Universe when it came to me. I wasn't sure they cared about too much that I did. Sure, my Father was here now -- But did he _really_ care that I was at a boy's house for the Holidays? Or did he just feel obligated, for once in his life, to pay his youngest daughter mind? Did he just not want some bad reputation for his family, brought on by me? Did he think me to be some kind of scarlet woman?

He wouldn't really know, I guess, so I couldn't be mad at him for that. He didn't know whether I was a whore or not. He didn't know whether I was in love or not. He didn't know if I was a nice person, or a bitch. He didn't know..._Me_. And James had said it.

"I suppose you're right," I said quietly, my hands sliding down my front to smooth out the wrinkles in my skirt. "I've grown up -- For nobody, really. I haven't impressed my parents any with it. They don't even realize it, I don't think. He doesn't know me."

There were two minutes of complete and utter _silence_. I just stood there, nervously fidgeting, and he just stared at me, with a crease to his forehead, and his expression was almost that of disbelief. Sympathy, I think. I think he was giving me some silent sympathy in those two minutes, when our eyes met and locked.

And I couldn't quite imagine myself ever tearing my eyes away from him.

**abc.**

**"You and Me", by Lifehouse.**

**abc.**

Before anything else could be said, or done, Mr Potter and my own Father reappeared in the hallway. I quickly turned to look at the two, though James was a bit slow on the uptake, and eventually took his gaze off of me to look at them.

Mr Potter looked satisfied, though in an impatient way. My father looked rather stubborn, though weary. He turned and quietly said something to Jude, and I held my breath hoping to be able to hear whatever it was.

James stepped out of the way as my Father came over by the staircase and looked at me with a small smile.

"You can stay here, Lily," He said quietly, reaching his hand out and giving my chin a nudge. "You deserve this, you know. You've done well for yourself. I'm just really sorry, darling."

I gave his hand a squeeze, and kissed his cheek quickly. I guess I was surprised he had backed down from his demand, but...I didn't plan on leaving. Whatever the decision might've been. I couldn't picture myself with my family during the Holidays anymore -- Or at anytime. And it was a bit of a terrifying realization -- I was practically alone now.

"Thanks Dad. Just know I never planned for it to be this way. I would have never left for Hogwarts when I was 11 if I had known I'd never really be coming back."

And that was it. He turned, giving a brief nod to James and Jude, and walked out that door. It was almost as if he was walking out of my life, once and for all.

Jude departed from the hallway without so much as a glance in my direction, and James stood for a moment, saying a single thing, and then following after his Father.

"You look really nice, Lily."

**abc.**

**December 29th**.

That's when December 29th happened. It seemed, in my mind, that we had gone from that eventful Christmas morning, to an insignificant date like December 29th. 3 days had passed without..._Anything_. It was as if I hadn't even _breathed_ in three days. They were...relaxing days. We were able to sleep late, the Potter's started going visiting more often so there wasn't any Mrs Potter to deal with. Melly was over at times, and she kept James and me from going insane.

We hadn't really talked much of the semi-fight we had on Christmas. We ate breakfast without speaking a word to one another, and all I think I said to him at Christmas Dinner was "pass the salt". I turned in early that night without properly thanking Mrs Potter for such a nice Christmas, and wrote my Grandparent's a letter. I had taken to playing the piano in that abandoned room on the fourth floor, and catching up on some school work. It was surprising to me how easy it was to avoid James for days.

I knew that James had somehow found out what Mr Potter said to my Father. I liked to think he had crept downstairs like a ten year old boy in the dead of the night, and stood outside his parents' half-open bedroom door listening. I liked to think he was typical like that. I liked to think that children actually _did_ that to their parents -- I had never. But I didn't consider myself typical.

I wondered what had been so bad about their conversation, if James had found out. I wondered why he couldn't look me in the eye for three days, or talk to me properly. I wondered just how badly I had been tainted in his eyes, because of what he may have heard.

**abc.**

"I can promise you that I will be kissing other boys."

Instead of looking hurt after I said it, Sirius looked...Curious. Intrigued. He propped his elbow up on the back of the couch, and held his chin in his hand. He had an almost smirk on his lips, and then gestured with his free hand as if he were surrendering, or...proud of me.

"You know what, Evans?" Sirius spoke in such an easy, casual tone that you wouldn't know I had just attempted to break his heart. "I think you're the first girl to reject me. Especially after I said something like that," He offered a nod, pushing himself away from me and into an upright sitting position.

"I'm pretty proud of you, sweetheart."

In indignation I raised my eyebrows, and pursed my lips, staring at him unblinkingly.

"Frankly, _sweetheart,_ I'm not trying to make you proud."

I folded my arms uncomfortably, and frowned down at the floor. Honestly, was it too much to ask to just hurt a boy? Just to slap him over the face, whether metaphorically or literally, and leave him sitting there a complete mess. It's all a girl needs, really. Reassurance she is strong.

It's all I needed, really.

**abc.**

I got up -- my arms still folded -- to leave the room that did not grow quiet, as it may have with James. It seemed to grow louder. I could almost hear the clattering of dishes and silverware from the kitchen, and his breathing seemed rather hollow, and I did not know who's heart was beating so loudly in my ears, but I would have liked to think it was his.

"What're you doing different with your hair?" He asked me just before I crossed the archway of the living room into the hallway.

The indignance had returned when I turned back around to look at him, my forehead more creased than before. I couldn't much believe him at the moment. Did he really have to act this _tough_?

"I've got it _parted_ differently, and it's...It's curlier, for christ's sake," I shook my head, shortly, a few times, and just stared at him, almost expecting more.

When he said nothing, I took flight.

"You are..._Proud_ of me? For rejecting you? For promising you I'm going to be kissing other boys? Many other boys if I can help it. Jesus Sirius -- Haven't you ever had your heart broke before? I think I felt kind of obliged to be the first one to do it, but you're absolutely fucking _impenetrable_."

I pursed my lips, stuck my chin out, and turned to leave once again, but Sirius Black seemed to have a knack for preventing you from doing that.

"And what would it mean to you, now, if I said that you hurt me? Hmm? What does it matter now?"

Sirius had sprawled his arms out over the back of the couch, one on reach side, and had slumped down on the couch a bit, spreading his legs out, and was tapping his left foot -- impatiently.

"It _does_ matter. I want to know that I impacted you, _somehow_." Admitting defeat, I leaned against the frame of the doorway, and looked at him helplessly from across the room.

"Lily, think about it. You want me to let a girl -- who barely even _started_ to give me a chance -- know that she broke my heart...? Come off it. Nobody exposes themselves like that. You just don't seem to know what you're doing in any of this." For the first time in the couple of months I had been semi-involved with him -- Sirius Black looked like he resented me.

And I couldn't blame him.

**abc.**

It was suddenly, painstakingly obvious to me -- But we all forced ourselves to be painstakingly oblivious to how obvious it was.

The thing that was so obvious, though, was what I had done. I had glided in and practically out of Sirius's live within a month and half, and sometime during then I had gotten to James. I had, somehow, met James head on, and since then had become utterly _devoted_ to figuring him out. And while I was devoting my time to figuring him out, he...He was suddenly mine. He undeniably...mine. He was my best friend now, and it was me who prevented those almost brother-like Marauders from speaking on a daily basis. It was me who had, somehow, come between them, and I had _stole_ James Potter right out from underneath my once potential love interest. I had done the one thing to Sirius that no other girl had even dreamt of doing, and even if I didn't get the chance to dig in deep enough with him, even if I didn't break his heart --

It was apparent to both of us that I had definitely hurt, damaged, _destroyed_ something. But as I said, we all tried to be oblivious to that fact.

Throughout my being oblivious, however, I was proud. Somehow, our pride played a huge part in all of it. My pride over the fact I had James Potter within my grasp was overwhelming, and it was a positively terrifying thing to accomplish.

But I had.

**abc.**

"You know, Sirius," I took step away from the entrance of the room, and stood with a lopsided posture, my fingers laced together, and my hands held daintily in front of me. "I really _don't_ know what I'm doing in any of this," I swallowed and bent my head down, unable to look at that absolute _man_, because it was suicide to a girl. "What I _thought_ I was doing in all of this was...Was falling for you, and having you fall for me. And what I _thought_ I'd be doing with assuring you I'd kiss other boys was...Was hurt you. I guess I just thought we..._both_ needed it. You needed to hurt, and I needed to hurt someone. I just thought we'd be doing each other a favour, but _God_ Sirius -- Don't think it's all I set out to do. Don't think you were just part of the plan, or something,"

Both of us looked up, and when our eyes met there was some kind of intense realization between the two of us. He offered the slightest inclination of his head, and I held my breath, squaring my shoulders, and waiting.

"James." He nodded some more, and said nothing more.

"I didn't mean for it to happen. For...for him to know me better than you. I didn't _mean_ to edge you out of the picture in _any_ way, but it...Happened, I guess. I would love to continue...Kissing you. And...and having this crazy...semi-affair behind your friends' backs. But I'm _so scared_ that's all it'd be. It has to stop, but only because I'm afraid it's purely physical attraction between the two of us,"

The grin that spread over his face was completely unintentional, but a welcome relief. He couldn't help it, of course, and it was...It was all right.

"And is that so bad, love?" Sirius's grin turned almost goofy, and he slowly stood up, stretching himself out.

"No, but I want to...To try to find out if we can be _friends_ first, if,-"

He didn't interrupt me. Not verbally at least. But Sirius was now standing about a foot away from me, with that wicked grin of his gone, and an almost stern, nervous look in it's place.

"You talk too much," He said simply as I stared at him with wide eyes, not saying anything.

"Pardon me?" I asked politely, raising my eyebrows, while he threw his head into his hands, and roughly tugged at his hair.

"And _that_. You say that too much."

I opened my mouth to apologize, sarcastically of course, but the sight of him was enough to stop me. He looked...Passionate, I suppose. With his grey eyes unblinking, and his dark brown hair close enough to _touch_...

_Purely physical,_ I found myself thinking as Sirius took a final step towards me, a slight frown over his face_. Purely physical,_ I thought again as I realized he was quite close to me.

_Purely physical,_ I thought one last time before Sirius leaned down to kiss me, and because it was _purely physical_ -- It was so hard to not want it again.

abc.His lips stopped just short of mine. He was not going to kiss me. He had no intentions of it. He was not holding onto my arms like he would have if he was going to kiss me. He was not touching me in anyway. I wanted to stare into those _manipulative_ eyes of his, but if I had I would've gone cross-eyed, due to his closeness. Instead I just darted my eyes back and forth, catching glimpses of his, and finally resting my gaze on his lips.

His lips were then moving so slowly, and almost.._.seductively._ He was talking.

"I'm not going to kiss you," Sirius murmured, and with the way his lips were moving he might as well have been. "You can stop looking so terrified," I pulled my face back from his slightly, just so we could...Could comfortably stare each other down.

I wanted to see his eyes.

"I'm ohkay with being friends." He told me quietly, while I nodded.

Then Sirius's eyes were going rather wide, and he was taking a huge step away from me. He was looking over my shoulder, and only _one thing_ was running through my mind.

James.

**abc.**

I dropped my hands to my side, and clenched them tightly, counting to ten in my head, and trying to stay calm. I just watched Sirius.

He swallowed hard, and ran his hand back through his hair. He offered a quick quirk of his lips in the direction of what _had_ to be James, and then -- before I could even realize it -- he had left the room.

I heard him enter the kitchen with some boisterous greeting to the people in the room, and I was telling myself that I had to turn around. I had to face him. I _hadn't_ in three days. I hadn't properly faced him in three days, and now would be the time to do it.

Turning slowly I crossed my right arm over and gripped the elbow of my left arm. I raised my eyes up from the floor, and saw, of course, James.

He offered me a small smile, a rather content one, that I hadn't even been expecting. I didn't know what I was expecting, though. Just not...Not a smile.

Perhaps I had expected for the world to fall. Perhaps I had expected James to positively hate me. Perhaps he had seen nothing. Perhaps the fact Sirius and me were standing close didn't strike him as odd, and didn't mean a damn thing to him.

Maybe he forgot about that one, single time I talked to him about Sirius, around the time of my birthday. Maybe James had forgot about that -- I almost had, myself -- and this meant _nothing_ to him. Or maybe he forgot about the time I talked to him about Sirius, so this would mean _everything_ to him. Maybe he had no idea why his fellow Marauder, and myself were standing so close. Maybe he thought it was some kind of...behind-people's-backs sort of thing. And in essence, that's what it had been.abc.

I was waiting for something that did not come, something like the story of my life. Waiting and _expecting_ something completely different from what I'd get. It was nerve-wracking, and frustrating, and I was so _on edge_ from living the way I lived. Living as if nothing could surprise me, because I expected the most obvious situations from life. I expected so little, I supposed, from myself and the people around me, that the waiting for something turned into...Living for something, I guess.

Smiling back at James Potter turned out to be the simplest thing I'd ever do in my whole, entire life. It would turn out to be the most _gorgeous_ and _invigorating_ thing -- To share a smile with him. And right now wasn't any exception.

"I didn't know you were up. I was just coming to get you for breakfast." I nodded as he spoke, and he smiled again, though there was something playing behind his eyes that was a bit unnerving.

"Alright,"

I couldn't explain anything now. Not when I needed to explain it to myself, first. Not when I didn't know how he'd feel about it. Not when I didn't know _why_ sharing this with James was so damn hard.

"I'll be right there, James."

I watched him walk into the kitchen before slowly following after him.

**abc.**

**"Kill the Messenger", by Jack's Mannequin.**

**abc.**

**L E**

**The most pathetic thing I've realized about myself is that I'm a sucker for_ quiet _nights. My parents and the company are in the den, Lexi's sound asleep, Sirius and Remus have gone, and I have a request for you --**

**Meet me on the back deck, if you think that, perhaps, we should start talking again. 9 o'clock.**

**J P**

I was shut in my room, just laying on the bed trying to regroup from the rather tiring day, when there was this _incessantly annoying_ tapping at my window. I ignored it fairly well for five minutes, but eventually surrendered and opened the window.

A bloody _owl_ flew in, perched on the bed post, and stuck it's leg out for me to take the letter from it. Then it flew off. I hardly had a chance to see who's owl it was, and what not, but I just unrolled the parchment, and read the letter.

I hardly recognized the hand-writing. James's hand-writing, something that I had become fascinated with for quite some time, was usually rather neat, a bit large however, and loopy. It seemed as if he had wrote slowly, and patiently, and shaped every letter _perfectly_. It was short and sweet, and I realized that _this_ is what it had come down to. Three days of not discussing things, then a situation that could've been blown out of proportion -- And he had to send a_ letter _to me. I wondered if he hated the fact he had been the first to...To cave in. Or maybe the fact we hadn't spoke properly for days was driving him as insane as it was driving me, and perhaps he was going to let me be stubborn and proud this time.

It was ten to nine now, and I hadn't changed out of my pajamas the whole day. Nor had I eaten much. I had a wonderful mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows, and I ate a muffin at some point, but I was just thinking too much to be really hungry.

Not even _considering_ not going to meet him, I decided to dress quickly. I wore a pair of dark-rinsed jeans and an oversized, burgundy coloured sweater that was almost down to my knees. I ran my hands through my hair, that had become overly wavy that day, and still held a tinge of the scent of my shampoo to it. I rubbed my tired eyes, trying not to disturb the mascara that I had applied in the early morning, and then I left the room, pulling the door shut after me.

**abc.**

And as I walked through the house -- quietly as to not disturb the serene feeling that had set in these past few days -- I absolutely hated the fact it was so beautiful. Especially tonight. Tonight there was some warm glow to every inch of the house, and it smelled so _endearing_, and it was what you would imagine...The inside of a gingerbread house to be like. Warm, and sweet, and perfectly perserved.

But I hated it right now. It was impossible to hate, but I swore I did. The warmth of the house was too comforting, the atmosphere the Holidays at created was too inviting, and the only damn reason, Lily Evans, you're hating it so badly is because _this isn't your home_.

I hadn't thought about it for three days. I hadn't thought about my own Father for three days, and really -- Spending the Holidays here was like suicide on my family life. It was.

**abc.**

There was nobody in the kitchen or the dining room, so I felt a bit relieved for not having to deal with anybody that night as I silently pulled open the sliding, glass doors that did, in fact, lead to a deck on the back of the house. It was large, and the wood that made it up was lightly coloured. There was a small, round patio table, and chairs set to the left of it, and deserted flower pots sitting here and there. To the right was one of those cushioned swinging seats, and that's where he was sitting, though the seat was perfectly still.

The deck wasn't closed in, and so it was, for a split second, like stepping straight outdoors into the below zero degree weather. But, I assumed, a spell had been put on it, and the air warmed slightly, enough so that you could only barely see your breath. It was comfortable. Still like you were sitting outdoors, but in a more tolerable temperature.

The light from the moon threw my focus off for a second, due to the angle at which it was hitting him at, but when I got closer I saw him perfectly, and grinned despite myself.

"You're wearing it." I said quietly, and his at first undecided expression turned into a grin, as well. He was wearing the grey sweatshirt I had got him for Christmas -- To replace the on I had took.

"I loved the gifts. Thank you." He said, and he did sound as if he appreciated it.

Sometime, three days ago, it had slipped my mind. _Exchanging presents_ with James had slipped my mind. After my Father left, and then James went to the kitchen, and we hadn't actually _spoke_ -- My presents to James had been set under the tree, removed from the couch, and he must have kept my present in his room.

"I didn't even realize you opened them," He reached over to remove something from the seat as I sat down next to him. "The past few days have just been..."

I trailed off hopelessly as he handed me what he had removed from the seat.

My gift.

The wrapping was so beautifully done that I could have just held it forever and beamed my appreciation for the packaging to him. It was a glittery, silver wrapping, with patterns on it if you moved it a certain way, and a silver and blue ribbon stuck to it. My name, simply, had been scrawled out on the tag, in his hand-writing that I was familiar with.

"Just keep in mind I had no idea what to get you, so my Mum was absolutely brilliant, and helped me out." James told me, as I gingerly tore into the wrapping.

"It's just too pretty to rip." I muttered, picking it apart carefully, and being one of those irritating people. He let me do it, though. Take my time, and keep the wrapping paper in perfect condition.

There was a white box inside, and I lifted the cover from it carefully, squinting in the dark to _see_...

A book was the first thing I noticed. It looked rather worn and old, and was obviously bought from a used bookstore. The cover had beautiful art on it, subtly so, however. I couldn't see the title in the dark, but I just felt as if it'd be amazing.

The second thing in the box fell onto my lap without me realizing it. James lit his wand and shined it towards me, lighting the second thing.

It was cream-coloured, and whatever it was looked _gorgeous._ The matieral looked rather thin, but was soft. Somewhere between cashmere and..._silk_. When I picked it up it felt like there was nothing in my hands, and wherever it touched bare skin -- Warmed instantly.

"It's a scarf." James finally told me, as I attempted to hold it out at full length and width.

It was long, and had decliate frays at the ends, and was just so...Pure looking. So dainty and elegant, and I suddenly wanted to wear a dress, and a string of pearls, high heels, and _this scarf_.

"It's gorgeous," I said quietly, turning to him and grinning cheekily. "Thank you."

I put the things back in the box, and leaned back in the seat with a sigh, slowly swaying the swing back and forth.

It was apparent to me that -- He didn't want to start it. He didn't want to get in to it, he didn't want to mess around with things. Neither of us wanted to, really. We were so content most of the time that we were together, and it was rather _hard_ to be anything but. We may have become a lot in a short amount of time, we may have been _best friends_, but we hadn't yet got to the point where we were comfortable with tearing each other down, frequently. We hadn't yet ventured far enough to _brutally hurt_ the other, and then try to recover from it. We were best friends, apparently, but we were playing it _so_ safe. When you were safe, in anything you did, you were not required to be hurt.

So, days of miscommunication, and one Hell of Christmas later -- We were decidedly unsure of one another.

"It's nice out here." I chimed in after a few minutes of silence, as James hadn't said anything since I thanked him for the gift.

"Nights like these makes it seem like there isn't another soul out there, doesn't it?" He eventually muttered, leaning his head back against the cushion, and craning his head back, looking up at the sky.

"Yeah," I agreed with a nod, noting the blank sky, save for a few stars, some wispy clouds, and the large moon. "And you know what I'd really like right now?"

I curled my feet up on the seat, continued the slow swaying motion that I had created, and turned slightly to look at him.

"What's that?" He asked nonchalantly, spread out rather comfortably, with his feet planted on the ground in order to resist the movement of the swing.

"For you to look me in the eye."

It was strange how life can appear however you want it to for a moment. Right then? It appeared to me in slow motion. My words didn't seem to register with him for a second, but when they did the rest of the world faded around him, and I just waited for him to turn to look at me, in the eye, for the first time in days.

He slowly tipped his head forward, and turned it to the right, to where I was sitting, and though they were narrowed slightly to see properly through the night -- His eyes were looking straight in my own, wide eyes. And he licked his lips before speaking in a rather croaky voice.

"The fact that you noticed we haven't made proper _eye-contact_ is almost startling."

"It's not been a pleasant few days, James," I said softly, looking down at the seat, and then back at his hardly-blinking eyes. "I don't even know how to talk about it."

"I don't _want_ to talk about it," He stated simply, suddenly, and _pleadingly_. He pulled his gaze away and returned to his former position, staring at the sky.

James folded his arms over his _absolutely fit_ chest, and looked...Pouty.

I made a bit of a frustrated sigh, and mimicked James's position, folding my arms, and sitting back. I stopped the swaying of the swing, and put my feet flat on the ground, staring up at the sky through the open side of the deck.

"All right, then, let's,-"

"Ask me questions. Completely random ones. I'll return them. Just something other than...Whatever."

It sounded fine to me. And apparently I was feeling a bit...Risky just then.

"Let me see. Have you...Ever had sex?"

The night seemed to completely _stop_, because I? I had went there. I had ventured to one of those areas that James and me had, silently, decided to stay away from. But I wasn't about to put up with a stubborn little boy tonight. He didn't want to talk about what was staring us in the face, understandably, so -- I asked it.

The silence seemed like an eternity, but then he was actually speaking.

"You honestly want to know?" He raised his eyebrows and looked at me for a second, before turning away again, and resuming his pouty looking frown.

It was my turn to drift us into a silence, because _honestly_? I did not know. I did not know what I wanted. With...With life, with relationships, _with him_. Did I want to know just how nice of a boy, just how pure of a boy, just how _virgin_ a boy James Potter was?

I didn't even know his middle name, I didn't even know why the Marauders were so close -- And I had to decide whether I wanted to know if he had sex or not.

"Um -- If I say no, will you at least tell me your middle name?" I asked innocently, knowing it was something he was rather hostile about.

"No." He fired back quickly, the crease to his forehead, I worried, was going to become permanent tonight.

"Well, then -- I," The moodier James seemed, the more determined I became. Determined and completely irrational. Thus being the explanation for the next words that came out of my mouth. "Yes, I want to know."

"Of course you would." James muttered, running a hand back through his hair, bending over, and resting his elbows upon his knees, while peering up at me.

I sat up, looking down at him, pursing my lips, crossing my ankles, and folding my hands neatly in my lap. I was going to make this impossible for him.

"Yeah, Lil, I've," His hand was jumping to his hair every other second and eventually he just squeezed his eyes shut and _said_ it. "I've slept with a girl. I've...Yeah, had sex. Jocelyn."

He frowned at his own inability to piece together a sentence, and as I watched him sit up straight -- I had no reaction.

And he felt the need to justify it.

"I was seventeen for god's sake, and swore that I was in love. She was beautiful, and temporarily perfect, and it just...It happens, you know. It just _happened_. It was just...You know, it was...A few times. It was near the time we broke up and -- Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Because you look different now." I murmured quietly, pulling my legs up, and crossing them, gently folding my arms, tipping my head back to the side, and closing my eyes.

And it was some sort of sweet insanity that took us both over for five minutes of blissful, understanding silence. Words were not enough for either of us that night, and we were always so much better off just _sitting_ with one another. Just being with one another was often enough, but tonight it was...It was too much. What James and I had worked so carefully and quietly to create was suddenly before us, and we had to accept it now before things became too hard to fix, before we became too lost in it to give a damn. What James and I had worked so hard to create was _lies._

We were both relying on lies to see us through this friendship until that night.

But one way or another -- Sex changes everything.

**abc.**

**"Adia", by Sarah McLachlan.**

**abc.**

Hey babes. You guys are unbelievably amazing reviewers, and over 200 reviews? You're too good to me, and you know it.

This chapter's not as long as it should be, but...I like it. It's kind of mixed up, and possibly hard to follow, and I apologize for that -- I just thought it needed mixed up a bit. I cut it off before I intended to, but I felt like it was tense scene, and I couldn't just end the tension. I want it to _hang_. Exams are coming up soon, so I don't know when I'll be able to get another chapter up. Oh, who knows. I might have another one up by the end of this week. Trust me, I don't put myself out too much over exams, LoL.

Hope your guys' summers have started by now, hope you're out of school, and hope you're all well! Review responses will be on my livejournal, once again, in a couple of days. Tomorrow hopefully. Link's in my profile. Lyrics are on my livejournal, too.

Love.

P.S. the **abc** thing is to seperate the scenes, as nothing else seems to work. kisses.


	17. They Can't Stop Us Now

**Chapter 17**

"They Can't Stop Us Now"

**abc.**

_  
_**"Not What it Seems", by Something Corporate.**

**abc.**

"James." I urged quietly, opening my eyes a bit, and seeing his head was, again, thrown into his hands. He was quite motionless except for his fingers that were sliding further into his hair, gripping it tightly.

He didn't lift his head as I said his name, and I sighed, gently swaying the swing back and forth. Despite it all though, it was a wonderful feeling -- Being out there that night. It was one of those nights that felt so _alive_. Or just reassuring. I truly believed, sitting there gazing out over the back yard, that nobody in the world was going to be alone tonight. It felt like everybody had somebody, just for that night, and the whole world was awake. I didn't know why I needed to realize that, to feel that way -- But it was reassurance that the world wasn't falling apart yet. Not yet.

"James." I said again, louder this time, and he eventually pulled his eyes up to me.

He _had _looked different in that one minute after he told me. He _had_. But not...Not like this. Somehow, in a matter of minutes, his _eyes_...

They were darker, it seemed. And I refused to believe that look in them was _disgrace._ It wasn't him that should be disgraced, just because he wasn't quite as virgin as I thought he was. I felt it was me that should be disgraced. First of all for _asking_ such a thing, and second of all for saying he looked different. For...For _seeing_ him differently because of it.

The brown in his hazel-green eyes was completely overwhelming the green, and I was left looking into a pair of eyes that could've been _on fire_. The way he had his back arched slightly, with his elbows on his knees, made it evident there was some...Tension coursing it's way through his body, and perhaps resting there in the small of his back.

I felt responsible. I shook my head and inwardly cursed myself for today. For bothering to wake up today, at all. How awkward did I intend on making things? How hard did I need this to be?

But there was one other question that was burning me almost as terribly as James's eyes were.

"What were you thinking when you saw us?" Referring to, of course, me being an inch away from Sirius's face that morning.

A spasmatic muscle in his left cheek made itself known through his, suddenly, clenched jaw, and his frown slowly eased away. He swallowed, and I heard the sigh he let out was a rather long, unsteady one.

"I was thinking -- Hell, is she in love with him,"

It remained, sharp and piercing, on the surface for a moment before he covered it with his goodnight.

"I'm tired. Goodnight Lily." He offered a tight-lipped smile, which looked almost sad, and stood up, extending his palm slightly in a bit of a wave.

My mouth was _so dry_ -- And I could feel my heart beating in my throat.

**abc.**

Five minutes after James left me out on the deck I realized it was _only_ about quarter after nine, and he was _not_ tired. Not at all.

But I was. I was tired of having to hide these boys from one another. Because that's what I was doing, really. James was such a mystery, such a _lovely_ mysterty, and he was absolutely all I had at times. Sirius didn't know how close we were. He did say he didn't know me as well as James, but...But that was just putting two and two together. He doesn't know the know the ins and the outs of me and James, and James doesn't know the ins and the outs of me and Sirius. I tried to not let that happen. I didn't want it to happen. I didn't want to have to be so secretive, and crazy.

That crazy part of me, though, wanted to reverse the roles now. My status with Sirius had officially been changed to 'just friends', and this voice inside of me was asking -- _So, is it James's turn to be more than friends?_

I didn't know.

But the realization hit me hard, as I sat there completely alone, save for the dark night, large moon and faroff city lights -- I was actually asking myselfthat question about James.

**abc.**

"I don't love him. I'm not in love with him. James, honestly, I don't -- I've never been in love. No, that's too personal. God, I just," My hands were twisting and grasping one another, and my strides were quick and short, not covering much distance of the hallway in front of his door. Just staying there, and...Pacing. I was pacing. Back and forth, pause. Back and forth, pause -- Go to push the door open, stop.

I adjusted the strap of my white tank top, as I had taken my oversized sweater off when I came

I couldn't quite recall a time I had been this nervous. How did I say it without sounding desperate and pathetic? How did I declare the fact that _his_ other best friend was now _only_ my friend, and I was not in love with him -- Not even close. How did I say that even though it was Sirius and myself in the beginning -- It somehow ended up with James and I being friends, him being amazing, and me falling in love with so many moments, and so many random, irrevelent things.

How could I tell him that he changed, but more importantly -- I changed. Maybe in the tiniest, most insignificant way. Maybe I only appeared to change to _myself_. Maybe he was the most mesmerizing boy I had ever met -- And I had no idea why.

Then I was talking. To myself. To him, in a way. It's how I should have been talking to him. It's how I _needed_ to talk to him. It's what he needed to hear, and how we needed to be, and I was just...

"God, I just hate the fact that I need you to know that. I need you to know I'm not in love with him, because if you know it -- Then maybe it'll be over. The secrets, and the lies, and the hiding. I've been so focused on _secrets_ since we all became friends, that I'm not sure I even know you. Does that sound awful? I don't mean it to, I just mean that...There's been a lot of secrets. And I'm going crazy with trying to keep everything straight, and just accept what I'm doing. I can't believe I'm standing here trying to convince myself -- you -- that I'm not in love with a boy. It's just making me wonder if it's always going to be this hard,-"

Then, and of course, there he was. He ran a hand through his hair as he pulled his bedroom door open, and leaned against it.

I stared at James, with eyes that I hoped weren't too wide.

Shadows were playing over his face in the oddest of ways, giving the illusion of maturity. For a brief moment, that felt like my entire life, I was seeing James Potter as an aged man, and I suddenly wondered whether he would marry a blonde or brunette.

He was shirtless, I noted almost dully, after getting over the inital shock of seeing him look so old for a flash of a second. He wore a pair of pajama pants, that dangled helplessly just above his angles -- They were rather short for him. I stared straight into his eyes and gaped like some sort of mindless git, until he spoke, causing me to jump and break the eye contact. I had no desire, however, to look him over. James was a rather tall boy, lanky and white, but he had his fair share of muscles, abdominal ones included. But I did not notice any of that then, tonight. His eyes were tonight.

"Were you planning on talking to yourself out here all night, or were you going to come in?"

Where he was lacking in clothing was made up for by the frown he wore. It was a rather perplexed, almost worried frown -- But he was still in a pissy mood, as far as I could tell.

Something absolutely warm flitted through his eyes when I did not respond, but instead mouthed wordlessly. He rolled his hazel-green's for a moment, stepped to the right and opened the door further with one hand, allowing me space to come in.

I went in, and stood awkwardly by the bed, with my hands folded behind my back, as he went around to his side of the bed -- _his side_? when did there become sides? -- and climbed back in it. He had left the door open halfway, and the light in the hallway had been turned on, so there was a comforting, golden glow to the room. I breathed slowly, calming, but still just stood there.

James laid on his back, with his arms folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling and sighing heavily once a few minutes of me just _standing there_ passed. It occured to me I did not know what to do. Climbing into a boy-occupied bed was suddenly a thing I could not do, but was going to -- Because this was James, and we were friends, and dammit, what else was I supposed to think?

He didn't look too impressed, I realized, as I shifted my weight, and chewed on my lip rather vigorously. He looked dark, and troubled, and it struck me that James Potter never, ever appeared that way to me before.

"What's on your mind, James?"

That dark expression turned to amused as he looked over at me, standing with bent posture, weight shifted to one side, and still attempting to chew my lip off.

I didn't want to know what was on his mind, really. I didn't want to help further that demeaning, almost sadistic personality he seemed to be developing, but none of us were quite ourselves tonight.

"I don't know. I'm a bit torn between being right pissed off at you for being a bit irrational, and dramatic over the whole sex issue, or being surprised because you had the _audacity _to ask me whether I have or not, and _then_ telling me I look different because of it." His voice was low, and rather rough, but held an airy, sarcastic tone to it that almost made me wince.

"It's not necessarily a _bad_ different," I offered, delicately, as I sat down on the very edge of the bed, my back turned to him. "It's more of an 'ohh' different. Just...Realization. I mean, it made sense to me when I looked in your eyes and saw a different part of you. I just...It was startling, I think. I don't know how to say this and not make you _more_ pissed off at me."

He sighed almost defeatedly, and it was obviously a task for him to do so.

"No, it's ohkay. You're not pissing me off any more than I already am -- I understand, I guess." He roughly messed his hair up, and stifled a yawn, picking at his comforter, looking moody with his downcast eyes.

I just watched him, I think, expecting the world, as I stretched my legs out on the bed, and leaned back against the headboard. I was expecting something profound to enter both of our minds at the exact same moment, and we'd somehow be in total sync again. But then I realized he did not know who he wanted to be right now. It was written all over his face, his body language, even in those eyes of his. He was moody and understanding, Hard around the edges and soft on the inside, Cold and sincere, Rough and calm -- He was some foreign person to me tonight, and I could not help but _love _and _hate_ it all at the same time.

"I don't want you to think any less of me, Lily," He began softly, after a moment of adjusting ourselves. "Because if you do I'll start regretting it, and until now I've not. I don't want to regret it, but there you go -- You're a bit influential, you know."

Why _would_ he regret it? It was nothing to regret. He didn't sleep around, he just...He was with one girl who he called his own for months, and months -- And he didn't regret it. It was all starting to become very heart-warming, in a bit of a jaded sort of way.

But this was coming from a girl who respected scarlet women. Perhaps not in _all_ senses, and perhaps not those who were drug-addicted, and lost -- But those scarlet women who carried themselves so easily. I respected a woman who was able to prance in and out of a man's life, offering him her most intimate self, and then was gone. I respected them for being so strong, and holding such an unearthly amount of pride and self-respect despite her doings. Emotions were for the weak, and I had long since accepted I was part of the weak.

"I don't think any less of you, James. I kind of respect you for it, I guess. In a weird way, I think it's,-" Whatever I thought it was left my mind quickly when I heard approaching footsteps in the hallway, and then a soft knock to the door.

It was, inevitably, Dani.

**abc.**

Somehow, five minutes later, I found my self with James sitting at the kitchen table, with each of his parents looming over us.

Apparently, Dani had come upstairs to get changed since the company had left, and somehow ended up a floor above her own, looking for James. And no doubt, she was looking for me, too. In simpler terms -- She was nosing around, attempting to find out anything she could.

What she _found_ was me in James's bed, the two of us struggling to pull the covers over me before Dani could enter the room. We didn't succeed, and made it look worse off than it would have if I had just sat up, and looked as if we had been talking.

Dani stood with raised eyebrows for about thirty seconds, as I climbed out from under the blankets, and stood up. One strap of my tank top had fell down, and the front of the shirt was raised a few inches, paired with my messed up hair -- Ah, there was no getting out of this one.

"Both of you, come with me." She said in a stern voice that was so much like Professor McGonagall's I practically ran out of the room.

Dani stood and waited for James to follow after her, as well, and I swore her eyes couldn't get much wider as she saw her son was rather...lacking a shirt. He noticed that she noticed, and he averted his gaze from her, picking his comforter up and draping it around his shoulders.

So, there we sat with the bright kitchen light hanging above us, and Mrs Potter looking like she was capable of murder. Jude? Not so much. He looked like he may have _laughed_ if it wasn't for that rather worried expression he wore...

And for the second time that night -- This was going to be about sex.

**abc.**

James actually did look tired now, as he was a bit hunched over, and was squinting as he looked at his parents. He stifled a yawn a couple of times, whereas I was sitting there, alert, with my back so straight it was almost hurting.

Dani sent Jude a bit of a glare, at which he cleared his throat and looked to her, speaking quietly. I sighed, and then shivered due to the cold of the kitchen, and the fact I was wearing a small tank top.

I shivered again, and James turned to look at me with a bit of a smirk on his face. I raised my eyebrows curiously at him, and felt goosebumps prickling all over my skin. There was something about a kitchen at night that made it..._cold_. A kitchen was a bit of an uninviting place when it was cold, but I supposed it wasn't meant to feel warm right now.

As I slipped my hands up my arms warming them as Jude and Dani continued talking in _ridiculously_ low voices, James..._laughed_. He laughed!

It's not as if this wasn't _humiluating_ enough, but he had to laugh at me because it's _cold_ in this damn _kitchen_ and I was wearing a _white tank top_ and it didn't help me feel any _warmer_, and it was _obvious_ I was cold, if you get my drift.

I glared at him, promptly folding my arms across my chest, and shaking my head at him, calling his parents attention to us -- Though we were rather oblivious to the fact.

"I can't believe you were _looking_ not to mention _laughing_ at me." I said with a frown, and he just leaned back in his chair, drawing his blanket tighter around him, looking smug.

"You don't find this situation at least _slightly_ amusing? God, we didn't even get to _talk_ about the little conversation you had with yourself out in the hallway," He turned serious for a moment, and looked at me with a sigh. "Just for the record -- I hate the fact we need so much _r_eassurance at the moment, too."

Dani scoffed at the two of us, and we turned to look at her. She had her arms folded and Jude was rubbing a hand over his head, looking rather weary despite the earliness of the evening.

"All I have to say is -- Be safe. We don't want,-" Jude began talking, but Dani interrupted. Rather _shrilly_ may I add.

"Do you know how old I was when I got pregnant, James?" She asked, and I raised my eyebrows curiously. I knew that she was not a _young_ woman when she had him.

"Thirty-four." James said in a dull tone, looking at his Mum with a lazy gaze.

"Exactly, and that's when you should be having kids. When you're that age. Not when you're _eighteen_,-"

"Mum," James interrupted, in a loud, booming voice that startled me. He sounded like his Father for a moment, with his blazing eyes, and his firm voice. James was a true Potter, and tonight it was becoming quite obvious. "I don't think you have any _right_ to stand here and tell us when we should be having kids. And I _especially_ don't think you have the right to make such _assumptions_ about Lily and I. First off -- Have a little _fucking_,-"

"James!" Dani yelled, but James continued.

",faith in what Lily's capable of. She's not an _idiot_ -- She's not about to get pregnant. Do you know why? In order to be pregnant you need to have _sex_, and for the _last time_ -- Lily and me were not having sex when you walked in, we haven't had sex at _any time_. We just didn't want you to see her, because you were so apt to either jump to conclusions or _banish_ her from this house once and for all. She's an absolute _darling,-"_

"Darling," James and Dani each said the word 'darling' at the same time. James was referring to me, and Dani was, of course, referring to her son.

And for one split second I could barely tell their voices apart. They each drawled the word easily, pronouncing it properly, with their practically identical accents. And the strangest occurance of that night, by far, had been the simultaneous uttering of that word, along with the realization that James Potter picked up the occasional name for me from his Mum. It was a bit ironic, I supposed, that he chose to call the one person his Mum seemed to dislike with a _passion_ the affectionate, childhood name that she used for him.

James stopped speaking and let his Mother talk, changing her tone to a more reasonable one. Or one a person may use if they're fearing for your sanity.

"Darling," Dani began again, taking a delicate step towards her son. "I really don't think the amount of _time_ the two of you spend together is necessary."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," James rolled his eyes, folding his arms, and leaning his chair back on two legs. "I invited her here for the Holidays, what exactly would you like me to do?"

"All right," Jude interrupted, suddenly, frowning between his wife and son. "James, you can watch your mouth, and stop being so disrespectful towards your Mother. Danielle, listen," Jude's eyes darted to me for a moment. "I believe James. I believe that they were _not_ having...Well. I believe that they were just talking, and I believe that they are just friends, and what I think you have to come to terms with is _why_ you're so threatened by,-"

He did not get the chance to say my name, because if he had said 'threatened by Lily' -- All Hell would have broke loose. Instead Dani began shaking her head, and holding a hand up to stop him before he could get too far ahead of himself.

"He's an eighteen year old _boy_ and he was in bed with an eighteen year old _girl_. You can't tell me that he hasn't _thought_ about it..."

I shut my eyes in disbelief of this conversation being had in front of the two of us. I couldn't believe that _they_ had the _audactiy_ to talk like we weren't even in the room. It was rather insulting, if you want the truth. To have these two adults talk about sex as if their son should never have it. Danielle Potter was living in a _bubble_, and I wasn't entirely sure it was completely her fault.

"Could you stop talking as if I'm some kind of scarlet woman, and James is an irrationally hormonal boy who can't keep it in his pants -- Please?"

"_Excuse me_?" Dani almost shrieked, with her slender eyebrows raised high, and her normally smooth forehead jaded with wrinkles.

"Lily's right," Jude said with a sigh, shutting his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You can go, all right? Just -- Be safe if it ever...Just...Goodnight." The two of them stood, silent, as James and me got up from our strategically set chairs, and left the bright kitchen for the dimmer lit hallway.

"Goodnight Lily." He muttered darkly, turning to go up the stairs, and taking the blanket from around his shoulders. I stood at the bottom of the staircase fiddling with a strap of my tank top -- Just watching him go.

And for the second time that night my chance to assure James that I did not love Sirius Black just slipped through my fingers.

**abc.**

**December 31st.**

**abc.**

**"Ruthless", by Something Corporate.**

**abc.**

He came into my room at 11 o'clock in the morning on December 30th, and told me to wear something nice for New Year's Eve. I just stared at him, with his messy black hair, and circles beneath his eyes. It was as if the definition of "something nice" was lost on me.

"Wha? Pardon?" I asked, blinking and shaking my head, furrowing my brow as I concentrated on his words.

I was sitting at the vanity brushing my hair back and contemplating getting dressed when he came in, looking sullen, with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Something nice. Like a dress," He explained, and I continued staring at him.

I didn't get a chance to ask why, because then he...Exploded.

Honest. Everything about him. The sullen state he seemed to be in was replaced by some kind of blacked-out _fury_, and the dark circles beneath his eyes weren't noticeable when his cheeks -- rather, _his whole face_ -- flushed red. He ran a hand through his considerably messy hair, and it made it even _more_ messy. His voice, though. His voice was quiet, and rather calm when he first told me to wear something nice, but was rough, and to the breaking point as he yelled at me. And his eyes were far too wide for James Potter.

"New Year's Eve is often accompanied by _parties_! My parents are having a New Year's Eve party for some of their friends, and for some of my Dad's co-workers. At New Year's Eve parties like this one you often _wear something nice_, like a _dress_, because you want to impress at least a couple of high class, sons of bitches with sticks up their arses that will be attending the party. And I'm back to my _god damn_ starting point -- Wear. Something. Nice, as we will both be attending this party, at least for a bit. All right?"

He didn't wait for my nod of understanding, as he spun around rather aggressively and walked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

**abc.**

I didn't know which I was more -- Pissed off or scared. He was like some raging maniac just because of what had happened last night. Personally, I thought I was the one who should be holding a bit of a grudge, but he just seemed insane, and I didn't even want to talk about it with him. It pissed me off that he thought he could come barging into my temporary bedroom and shout at me like that. It scared me, too, though because James wasn't that kind of guy. He wasn't any sort of abusive, he wasn't the guy that loses his temper in a moment of blind rage, he wasn't the guy that would be too intoxicated to remember things properly.

James Potter was something to look forward to. He was someone to have a little faith in, and someone who would make sense of the tragic flaws in your life without you even having to ask him to. He had that subtle pride to him, and those chivalrous aspects to him. Life fell apart at times, but James Potter did not. People died, hearts were broken, and pleas for help would fall on deaf ears -- But James would be standing there tall, and strong, and it hadn't yet occured to me how pathetic I was for having that picture of him in my mind.

But what had occured to me then was that I had absolutely nothing to wear.

That's when, at around 11:30, I found myself knocking on Mr & Mrs Potter's bedroom door, whilst tying my robe around me.

Dani opened the door, and did not look like the Mrs Potter I had come to know and...Well. She looked tired. I had heard her and Jude start fighting before I reached the top of the stairs last night, and Jude was no where to be found in the bright bedroom behind her.

Dani raised her eyebrows rather expectantly, and did manage to look rather elegant in her silky dressing gown.

"What is it?" On the bed behind her, and even a couple scattered on the floor, were dresses.

"I, um. I just felt like I should tell you that I'm not sure I have anything to wear tonight," Under her invasive stare I straightened my posture and tried not to stare at my feet. "I'm not even sure what type of dress I should be considering..."

**abc.**

**1 o'clock p.m.**

**abc.**

Mrs Potter had, however briefly, glanced around her bedroom at the number of dresses she was trying on, and then looked back to me -- Almost appearing genuinely concerned over the issue of _looking nice_.

"I think I have an idea." She said, a slight smile on her face. I couldn't quite decifer the meaning behind the smile, but now that I was standing here on some girl's doorstep, who was practically a stranger to me, I thought it must've been _malice_ behind that smile.

With a sigh I raised a gloved finger and rang the doorbell of this absolutely _enchanting_ house. It wasn't a minute before the door was being pulled open by a beaming Melly, and a flutter of warmth was meeting my face.

"It looks positively _freezing_ out. I can't get in the mood to wear a dress when it's so cold." She commented, inviting me into her house, and waiting for me to take my shoes off before leading me down a hallway, and then up a staircase. Her house was decorated with warm colours, and warm woods, and though it was rather large, there wasn't any large spaces left untouched. Something filled every corner, offering an unbelievably comforting feeling to the house.

The upstairs appeared almost small compared to the rest of the house, due to the fact that two bathrooms were next to each main bedroom. There were two bathrooms, and three bedrooms, including the large guest one that held two beds. I couldn't help but peeking inside the rooms, and sighed in vain at how well decorated for the Holidays they still were.

"Right through here." Melly's bedroom was nice, and girly, and absolutely full. It depressed me further when I realized I was in love with the colour of her walls. They were a rather light, coral colour with white trim, and everything matched well.

There were three dresses laying on her bed, and she stood uncomfortably at the end of it, presenting the attire to me with a bit of an awkward gesture.

"We're the same size, I'm sure of it." She encouraged in her pretty little voice, as I gingerly picked up a rather sparkly dress and stared at it.

I didn't believe her. She was so tall, and slim, and sleek, and pretty, and I refused to believe that I wore the same size as the incomparable girl next door.

I hated the sparkly dress, and didn't even bother to try it on. It was silver, and the sparkles on it itched terribly. The other was made from a silky, shiny material and was a dark green colour. It was almost black depending on which way you looked at it. The neckline plunged far too low, and the back matched it. I just didn't feel like exposing that much, and perhaps encouraging the scarlet woman reputation.

The last dress was...Lovely. It was a sapphire-blue colour, and was made from a satiny material, though from the waist down it had an outer layer of an almost crepe-like material. The upper-half of it was rather fitted, and was in the form of a halter top, but it flowed out at the waist, and the skirt was ruffled and swayed around daintily.

I looked at Melly and she grinned. Without saying a word I went to stand behind the changing screen she had up in the room, and I slipped into the dress. I kept my eyes shut, and held my breath as it fell down my body, to stop just above my ankles.

"Let me see, pllleeeease." Melly demanded sweetly after a few minutes.

Mustering up any confidence I could I stepped out from behind the screen, and stood there allowing Melly to offer her approval or disapproval. She raised her eyebrows, and looked politely surprised, and moved out of my way, to let me see into the mirror.

"No, I'd rather not look." I said, rather mortified at her lack of comments on my appearance.

"Lily, honestly." Was all she said.

With a sigh I looked into the old fashioned, full-length mirror that stood near the left wall of the bedroom. And then I wasn't sure who I was looking at.

Somehow my waist appeared narrow, and the way the skirt of the dress flowed out added to the length of my torso, giving me the illusion of elegance and grace. I looked the slightest bit taller, and when I squinted my eyes, tilted my head to the right, and stared --

I was seeing the girl next door in myself. I was seeing that pretty, sweet, and sophisticated girl in myself, that I normally just saw in Melly. It was dizzying, really, to look into that mirror and not see a torn up, lost girl but instead to see a grown up girl. A woman, almost.

"You'll knock him off his feet." Melly commented quietly, grinning widely.

I looked to her, smoothing the material down over my front, and returned the smile.

"I hope so."

**abc.**

Upon returning to the Potter's household, I became rather shocked at the preparation needed for a New Year's Eve party. I recalled New Year's Eve parties at my house would just be our family getting together and watching the countdown on television. We'd light sparklers, eat seafood, and the kids would try to steal sips of wine. Things were never carried out to this extent. There wasn't a caterer carrying trays of food up the stairs to a specific party room. The lighting wasn't altered in order to look right for the party. Suits, dresses, and dress robes weren't the required dress code for the party. It was just shocking to walk in the front door and see all of that. And Mrs Potter was in a _right_ mood with Jude, so she spent the _entire afternoon_ getting ready.

Jude spent most of his time in his Study, and James was no where to be found, so I got curious and tried to find the room this party was going to be in. Not so surprisingly it would be in the largest room of the house, which was the one on the fourth floor of the house, that was completely empty -- save for a piano, rug, and window seat. It was the room in that huge house that I had fell in love with, because of James that night. But in some way they were ruining it with the expensive decorations, and long tables draped in white cloths, with far too much food on it. There was a bar set up, as well, and the only thing left the same was the piano in the middle of the room.

I guess that room just reminded me that even wealthy families don't have everything for some places. That some places -- rooms, minds, hearts -- are just meant to remain empty. It made me think of my home, and my Holidays, and how things were with us. Simplicity is often more amazing than overwhelming, visually dazzling, materialistic things. The stars appearing like diamonds on a warm, summer night are worth far more than an actual diamond, laying blandly in a bed of gold. I thought, maybe, there were some things that nobody can ruin -- But somehow the Potter's managed to ruin even that lovely room that day.

**abc.**

The guests were to begin arriving at around 8 o'clock, and would Disapparate up to the room the party was in. Lexi was sent over to Melly's for the night, as she had her own plans while her parents would be at the party. Sirius and Remus would not be over, though it had slipped my mind as to why. Something to do with visiting family...I wasn't sure. It seemed that James and myself would be the only teenagers there, and I wondered just how much of an impression we were expected to make.

I shut myself up in my room, and wore a dressing gown as I did my hair and makeup -- Though it was minimumal. I wore my hair in soft curls, that made my hair seem longer than it was, and I left it completely down, not even putting any hair ornaments in it. I applied some mascara, blush, and a pale coloured gloss to my lips. I wasn't one for eyeshadow, so I just smoothed on a nude coloured shadow that just illuminated my lids a bit, without overdoing it.

When I put the dress on, I only briefly looked at myself in the mirror, afraid there'd be something different about the way it would look in this house.

And then I waited. Until about 8:30. Not entirely sure what I was waiting for -- Not then, at least. But it was James Potter. He was what I was waiting for. He was what I wanted right then. I just felt as if it should happen, that he should show up at the bedroom door, knock twice, and then extend his arm with a boyish grin upon his face, not saying anything of my appearance until the end of the evening. I was waiting for my escort, but he did not come.

So I left for the party myself, walking up to the next floor, because Apparation was not an art I had yet mastered. The strappy shoes I wore were killing my feet, already, as I neared the top of the staircase, and I'm sure I was grimacing as I came into view of the other guests.

**abc.**

9 o'clock had come, and it was about quarter after. I stood awkwardly inside the room of the party, as more elegant, gorgeous, fashionable looking people made their way inside. Mr and Mrs Potter were a picture of perfection, standing near the door and greeting everyone. They sure knew how to play happy, even when they weren't happy with one another. I was sure they had played happy a few times before. Jude wore a suit when other men wore dress robes, and the women stuck strictly to dresses. This was their one night to go all out, and they certainly liked their diamonds.

I smiled at some familiar faces -- James's Aunt and Uncle, Melly's parents -- and was forced to introduce myself as "James's friend" to people who would come over to shake my hand. I could imagine how good that looked, saying I was James's friend and standing at that damn party all alone.

This was nothing special to me. I don't make New Year resolutions, and I don't feel any different when the clock strikes midnight and the New Year presents itself, all dark and full of fireworks.

I believe, as cynical as it is, that it's just another reason for adults to get drunk and promise themselves they _will_ do better in the next year -- Even though they don't. I felt useless and as if I was a child playing dress up, standing there just watching couples mingle and dance; drink and eat.

When I glanced the small, silver watch on my left wrist and saw it was almost 9:30 I felt like crying. I made my way over to Mrs Potter to declare I was leaving, and that I hoped she enjoyed herself --

Then he came through the door.

**abc.**

James did not immediately see me, but I immediately saw him, and wondered how I ever missed him. Because I certainly had. I hadn't been seeing him properly, and clearly the past few days --

He looked...Worn. Handsome and debonair, suave and sophisticated, but worn. His hair didn't even seem to have the energy to stick up. It was lying flat, save for his fringe. His eyes were a bit lackluster as he looked around the room, but the suit he wore did him _good_. It fit him amazingly well, and though the tie was a bit crooked -- He looked breathtaking. His face was clean-shaven, and his glasses set straight on his nose, as he adjusted the black suit jacket he wore, and continued his scan of the crowd, whilst smiling at a few people.

And somehow I was rushing over to him, hoping he noticed me before I tripped over him or something. He, as fate would have it, did notice me clutching the excess fabric of the dress as I walked fast over the wood floor towards him. His adam's apple protruded a bit as he swallowed and turned to face me, running a constant hand through his hair.

I was breathless -- fitting I supposed -- as I came to a halt, and _had to say it_ -- What I had been trying to say for two days.

"I'm not in love with him."

**abc.**

My eyes searched his incessantly, through his steely stare the twisted sort of _relief_ was obvious. Though he said nothing, as he took me by the crook of the elbow, and led me through the crowd of people.

"Let's make the rounds, shall we?" He muttered, as if his teeth were clenched, while he smiled at people widely.

"Make the rounds?" I hissed, wrenching my arm from the painful grip he had on my elbow. "I've been 'making the rounds' for about an _hour_. Who do you think you are, leaving me at your _parents'_ party -- alone?"

"I apologize, but I had some business to attend to," Quite suddenly we were stopping to shake hands with a Mr and Mrs Parker, and I noticed _dirt_ on the hand he extended to be shook. He noticed, too, as he quickly offered the other one.

"Where were you?" I was about to ask the same question, but Mrs Potter came up behind us looking at her son through narrowed eyes.

"Mum, hi. Lovely party. Quite the turn,-" James began in an airy tone, but his Mother cut him off first thing.

"Is it a full moon?" She asked curtly, eyeing James's beat him looking hands.

I frowned and averted my attention, because frankly -- This conversation wasn't making much sense to me. Had I kept my attention on them I would have noticed the short, slightly sympathetic nod James offered his Mum, and the one she offered back.

**abc.**

James grew quiet after a few minutes, and less aggressive than he had been over the past couple of days. We wandered aimlessly around the large room, stopping for cups of punch, and to watch the middle-aged couples dance, and try to impress one another.

When James spotted a couple he knew would want to check in with him -- he played on the Qudditch team with their son -- he quietly suggested we go over to talk to them, and I was so pleasantly shocked when I felt his hand grasp my own that I decided not to pull it away.

There was something tired about him that night, and it showed through his occasional, heavy sighs. I wanted to yell at him for acting like such a bastard lately, but then I wanted to go sit with him in a quiet corner of the world, and hold his hand forever. It's how he made me -- An absolute mess.

So, I just stood next to him, acting like a trophy wife would -- Except for I was enjoying it. Enjoying the fact people liked my dress, and enjoying the fact I could stand next to him and have people wondering, but know that we were just friends. And I could watch him. Watch him rub the bridge of his nose when he thought no one was looking, and watch him flick at the end of his nose and rub his index finger beneath his cheek, all because this was a bit overwhelming.

And I could watch him send me small, almost nervous smiles when no aging couple was attempting to strike conversation with a us. Perhaps the smiles were small and nervous, because he knew I did not like him this way. I did not like not _knowing_ him, and feeling as if I had done something wrong. I didn't like waiting for him to decide when it was time to talk, and _he knew it_.

The most important thing, though, that I ever watched James Potter do was become the one person I wanted to be with for my entire life, however long or short that may be. He did an amazing job at becoming that person, too.

**abc.**

At 10:30 my feet were aching, and I decided the party wasn't worth losing my feet over, so I politely excused myself to the overly-tanned and wrinkled woman going on endlessly about a trip she took to some sunny place, and I couldn't help but wonder if in ten years Melanoma would be her undoing. I slipped into the background, casting a glance around to see if James was still talking to his Father's collegaues, and then left through the doors.

I shut the doors behind me, and stood in the middle of the wide hallway, rather amazed that some simple spell had managed to block all of the sound from the party from leaking out.

There was feeling of emptiness residing deep in my stomach, and was slowly gnawing it's way up to my throat. When the wave of it hit me, it left my eyes unblinking and my forehead with creases. Ignoring it, I took a few steps forward -- wrapping my arms around myself to fend off the cool air of the hallway -- and then was sent almost dizzy when another feeling overspilled from some locked up closet within me.

Uselessness was a terrible thing, but in that moment it's how I felt. I didn't know why, for a minute, but then things became clear -- Became horribly clear, just as James Potter was becoming horribly clear.

I was wearing a beautiful dress that was not my own, and I appeared...Well. Mildly attractive in it. I stood in a party for the better part of two hours, and did not dance once, because my mind was apparently lethargic and could not quite comprehend what to do. I didn't want to move the wrong way, or say the wrong thing, but I did not know what was right and what was wrong, so I just stood -- Uselessly.

Nothing seemed to be penetrating my surface that night. The compliments I had gotten on my "flaming red hair" and my "dress fit for the Queen", did not mean a damn thing to me, because those people didn't mean a damn thing to me. This world hardly meant a damn thing to me, and I was just taking up space in it, buying myself time until I could leave it again.

What was I doing with my life that was of any use to myself? It was of use to other people, sure. I was Head Girl, and I was forced to patrol the grounds during the evening, leaving the Professors and other students to their relaxation. But the classes I attended and the detentions I handed out were nothing to me. They just helped that void within me be made deeper, and darker, and filled with wonderment. The only thing that would help myself in the months to come was sanity, and _strength_ -- It's rather amusing how I lacked those things until I _made_ myself wake up one day not so long from now.

**abc.**

Somehow, that wasn't as surprising or strange to me as maybe it should have been -- I had made my way back to my bedroom without even realizing it, and now I was sitting on the edge of the half-filled bathtub, with my feet in the warm water.

I had pulled the dress up above my knees so it wouldn't drag in the water, and my shoes had been discarded somewhere between the door of the bedroom and the bathroom. The ache in my feet was just the price I had to pay for temporary beauty -- _Of something nobody was looking at it, anyway_, my thoughts screamed to me, trying to tell me what an idiot I was for thinking the way I did.

For about a minute, I recalled, I had stood with my wand, looking at my feet, trying and failing to come up with a spell that would diminish the soreness of them. So, being the girl I was, I drew up a warm bath -- for my feet.

I swished them around, listening to the inexplicably calming sound of the disturbed water, and then began humming to myself.

It wasn't a completely tuneless hum, as it had meant to be. Or perhaps it had meant to be happy-go-lucky, but did not turn out that way. It turned out...Forlorn. As if it had been on my mind for weeks, and was just making itself known now. A sad, mournful tune that would be fit for a widow to hum, or a congregation to hum at a funeral.

I hated the jagged, jaded way my thoughts were presenting themselves, but it must have been healthy from me. A healthy change, a healthy reminder -- _Don't take your sanity for granted._

As I finished the hum on a rather low note, and stared at my bleary reflection in the water, the inevitable sound of James's voice came echoing through the bathroom.

"That was..." He began from somewhere behind me, though I didn't look at him.

His voice held some hint that he hadn't been standing there long, because he did sound relatively surprised at the scene he was walking in upon. I couldn't blame him, I'm sure I would've been surprised too, had I been in my right mind at the time.

"Unintentionally depressing." I finished for him, easily, earning a chuckle from him.

"It's fitting, though. Things are...Unintentionally depressing out there."

The 'out there' he was referring to could have been anything, but I got the distinct impression he meant...Out there, in the real world. But tonight I was not going to push that issue.

I turned my head round to look at him and then felt some of my insane emptiness ebbing away. All that I could think of was the fact that he was _here_ now, and that he was as useless as I was tonight.

He looked a lot like a sad, young boy on my first glance, as he stood, leaned against the frame of the door, with his hands shoved deep inside his pockets. James looked as if he had run out of something tonight, -- A thought that kept coming back to me. Weary, and worn, and running out of something, if not everything.

James was not wearing his suit jacket, and his tie was missing, as well. His button-down shirt was undone near the chest, and a white, ribbed, cotton tshirt could be seen there instead of the bare flesh of his chest. I was a bit disappointed, I admit, but his disheveled appearance as a whole was enough to make up for the lack of provocative glimpses of skin. The cuffs of his shirt were unbuttoned, leaving the sleeves loose from his arms. When he looked down at his feet, small shadows formed around his eyes, due to the generous amount of thick, black eyelashes he had, and for a moment I was jealous of the undeniable piece of art that he was.

**abc.**

I did not ask him to sit with me on the edge of the tub, but he ended up doing so anyway, with no complaints from me.

James kicked his size eleven shoes off, pulled his socks from his feet, rolled his pant legs up, and slipped his feet into the lukewarm water in the bathtub.

"Do your feet hurt, as well, then?" I asked as he gripped the tub on either side of where he sat, and stared into the rippling water, and before answering he asked if I was imagining the Lake at Hogwarts, too.

"Yeah, yeah I am." I told him quietly, and he offered a quick nod.

"No, my feet don't hurt," He told me in a murmur.

James shrugged his broad shoulders, and continued. "I'm just sitting here with you."

It was an obvious explanation of what he was doing that very moment, and I could quite easily see that with my own eyes, but hearing him say it made my heart beat a little faster. _I'm just sitting here with you..._

"Have you made any New Year's resolutions?" I pressed on, after a few minutes of just swishing our feet around and splashing the water up each other's legs.

"Mmm," He sighed, warmly. It was a warm sigh. A warm, almost exhausted sigh that I could almost feel breezing it's way over my skin. "No." With a cheeky grin he returned the question.

"I've not, no. If I were to make one, though," I took a breath, and considered it. "I'd probably declare,-"

"Honesty," James cut me off, and I looked to him with a raised brow. "You would...Declare honesty," Hearing him speak, and telling me what I would declare put me off a bit and I couldn't quite remember what it was I was going to say. "Because you're an honest girl, and you've not been able to express that honesty much in the passed couple of months," He spoke almost lazily, and with ease. That was the expression resting over his face, too. "You would promise the New Year that you were going to be honest from here on out, but would somehow get caught up in the whirlwind of deceit and lies all over again."

I parted my lips to say something, but the only words there were the same words I said earlier that evening, for reasons I don't know.

So, I said it again.

"I don't love him." It was startling even to me when my voice came out rather weak, and croaky, and as if I were on the verge of tears.

For one, long moment I swore the night was going to end before Midnight. Before any sort of sweep me off my feet. Before any sort of act of New Year's admiration.

But it did not.

James smiled wryly, and reached a hand out to the bunched up length of my dress, and there was a question in his eyes, for a second, of my grace and elegance -- Wondering whether I truly had any.

As he ran his hand over the fabric, clenching his jaw, and finally swallowing for relief -- He nodded.

"Would it be terrible of me to say -- 'good'?"

And suddenly it hit me...They couldn't stop us now.

**abc.**

**"The New Year", by Death Cab for Cutie.**

**abc.**


	18. Into the Abyss

**Chapter 18  
**"Into the Abyss"

**abc.**

**"Walking By", by Something Corporate.**

**abc.**

11:30 came eventually, and I found myself staring through a window out into an unnervingly dark night. The sky was some sort of silky, smooth black expanse, lacking any stars to ebb away the perpetual darkness. The moon wasn't in my range of view from this window, and I found the dark of the hallway combined with the night -- Was suffocating.

For one brief moment that could have very well lasted all of eternity -- I was overcome with the feeling of..._Death_. It was engulfing, startling, and _choking_, but in a second it was liberating, and dizzying, but _strange_.

I frowned after the feeling passed, and I was left with a heavy _something_ deep inside my chest. I took steady, large gulps of the cool air of the hallway, and wondered if it was just the dark of the night offering me these cruel sensations, or if it was something to do with what was going on _in_ the dark of the night.

Shivering due to my rather cynical thoughts, I sighed and sank down further into the armchair in the hallway, so strategically placed next to a coffee table, and the wide window, that let you see forever out of it. I had changed into a pair of navy, flannel pajamas and my hair was a bit messy as it flowed over my shoulders. For the first time that night I was feeling remotely comfortable, and was completely alone.

Any, again remote, sexiness I had experinced while wearing that pretty dress, with those pretty shoes, and the pretty makeup had long since vanished. Probably around the time James stood up from the bathtub, wiped his feet off with a towel, and then tossed the towel towards me. He declared, quite suddenly and stealthily, that he was returning to the party in order to offer proper goodnights and Happy New Year's to the men who were hounding him but an hour earlier to take a job with the Ministry as soon as he was finished with school.

I stared at him, trying to make my mind work as he went through the doorway of the bathroom, back into the bedroom, bent to pick his discarded suit jacket up, and was about to leave the room. But I could not think of a thing to say that would do this night justice. I couldn't say anything that would be rude to either James or Sirius, and I wasn't sure just how I felt about him being glad. Impartial, I supposed, because I really knew that he'd be glad, but...What was I to do? Smile and tell him that's ohkay, you're not terrible, you're not supposed to want your best friends to be happy? Nothing in my mind would suit what tonight had become, and oddly enough -- It felt right that way. Often, between us -- Saying nothing spoke volumes.

And so that's how, I was sure, the night was to end between the two of us. James quietly dismissing himself to his upscale New Year's Eve party, where he belonged, and me quietly swishing my feet around in a nice bathtub that did not belong to me. There was nothing for me to say, no way to pick conversation up from there and make it seem real and not forced, and I thought he'd be the one person to understand that, seeming the whole damn night was fraud and forced happiness.

That feeling of death was the first feeling I had actually recognized since I wandered out from my bedroom, into the hallway where James and me had sat observing the city when I had first arrived here. After I let it absorb into me, and let myself consider it -- Maybe it wasn't death. I had always imagined the feeling of impending death, whether it be my own or another's, would feel...Cold, and terrifying. But I was warm in my flannel pajamas, and wasn't terrified -- I was curious. Liberated, as I thought at first.

_Maybe_, I thought, _just maybe --It was catching my breath I felt_. And that was, also the first, pleasant thought I recognized since James left for the party again -- Catching my breath sounded like a lovely thing to do, and no better time than now to do it.

**abc.**

Hold that thought, though, because the precise second that my eyes fell shut and I began breathing steadier, pushing that suffocating mental brush with death from my mind, completely -- James was collapsing into the armchair next to mine, with a heavy sigh, adjusting himself until he was slumped down far in the chair, with his legs stretched out to the coffee table.

He had startled me and took me by surprise, so badly, that I was left gasping for breath, and clutching a hand to my chest, feeling my heart thump quickly against it.

"We'll be able to see fireworks from here," James told me, calmly, paying no mind to my possible heart attack situation. "The city will be having them, and then some people just light them in their back yard's for the Hell of it."

He was, however slowly, getting away from that party look, now wearing a pair of pajama pants, paired with his completely unbuttoned dress shirt -- The white, ribbed tshirt still beneath it. He looked rather satisfied, though, unlike how I expected him to be after what I thought was an exhausting evening. It occured to me -- James Potter really did belong at those sort of social gatherings, and he enjoyed it.

It's all he had ever known, after all. Beautiful people, beautiful things, and social gatherings. He had learned how to recognize the important people early on, and knew how to charm those important people from the day he was born. It was bred right into him, being lovely, and suave, and sophisticated -- And for that, I hated him.

When I did not respond to him, much like earlier that evening, he continued speaking.

"I know -- Why aren't we in the back yard lighting fireworks off? Well, for one all the drunks upstairs would go a bit mad, thinking they were going to deaf or something due to all of the explosions, and I've not got any home with me. Zonko's was all out of Filibuster's, naturally, and Sirius ran off with the rest of my lot..." Thankfully, he trailed off and picked up on my dirty look -- That was given to the cool-looking, glass of the window.

"All right, Lily," It would become a popular catch phrase, almost, with James. As he said it, I pursed my lips and refused to look to him. He sat up, all business and aristocrat-like. "Are you angry about earlier?"

Pairing my pursed lips with a turned up nose, I began to speak, voice full of indignation, and found myself uttering the one word I had not meant to.

"No," He seemed as, momentarily, surprised as I was, but then I sighed shortly after, and it made sense. "I'm not _angry_, no, James."

The two of us waited for me to say what I _was_, if I wasn't angry.

"Disappointed?" I murmured to him, in the form of a question. Was it disappointment? Was it _anything_, at all? I didn't know. I just knew that...I didn't like him leaving like he did, and damn it -- I told him that, too.

He nodded once I told him, and looked as frustrated as I felt, rubbing at his face roughly, and tugging his hair until it was standing up at odd angles.

"I didn't know what I should be," He wasn't yelling, but trying to through his hoarse voice and heavy sighs. "I didn't know what to tell you," Quieter. "I didn't know how terrible it would be to say I was glad, but in a way, I've decided -- I am glad. I am glad that you're not in love with him, because Lily when you _do_ love somebody, I just..."

Where this was going was beyond me. I just started at him, not anything but...Taken aback, and listening _so intently --_ too intently -- to his hardly-above-a-whisper voice.

"I just don't want to miss it, you know? I just felt like...'Whoa, where the hell have I been?' when I seen you. It's strange how I just...Really, really hated it."

He went on to say he not only hated thinking he had missed something between Sirius and I, but he hated realizing how distant the Marauders had been over the past while, and the _one thing_ that surprised me _the most_ that night was the last thing he said with a clenched jaw, and in a completely indescribable tone of voice. Stubborn, let-down, strong...I couldn't tell what it was.

"I hated realizing, after seeing the two of you...So close, that the Marauders have been pretty distant lately, and...And then I realized that I don't know if I care. I don't know if I _want_ to get back to acting like an immature prat, and I've spent such little amount of time with them -- That I don't even know if I still _like_ my friends anymore, you know? I just," He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, and then slumped back in the chair, adjusting his feet on the coffee table. "It's been about you, lately."

**abc.**

There was the strangest burning sensation climbing into my throat as my stomach tumbled unpleasantly. It was as if a weight had been dropped inside of me and landed ungracefully in my stomach, sending what could only be _burning guilt_ coursing through me.

It was because he was laying the blame on me, however intentional it was I did not know -- But it was there. A pointed finger, a reason for the distance, a cause for their lack of interest with each other -- It was all laid on me. Piled on, smothering, dizzying me until I realized it was far beyond my control, now. There was no turning back, nothing I could do to just up and let James go, and watch them go back to being the way they were. Friends. I couldn't fix it, especially when he was thinking he didn't _want_ it fixed.

I had, possibly, _destroyed_ the one thing I admired about the boys from the beginning -- before the beginning -- and watched it go down in flames with a smile on my face. I had interferred, invited myself in, and claimed one specific Marauder for my own keeping. That girl with the red hair, milky skin, and green eyes -- _Me_ -- had done the unthinkable. And they all knew that it _was_ the unthinkable. They all knew it was _morally wrong_ among teenage boys -- A girl wasn't supposed to come between friends. Friends like them. A girl wasn't supposed to do that, and what did it say for them -- Letting a girl do that? It said they were as weak as the rest of us, and as desperate for something, anything, _everything_ to complete them. They were human, and their friendship, apparently, wasn't made to outdo the rest.

It came back to me, in the end, though. and the fact that...I hadn't meant to do it, nor wanted to do it. I hadn't wanted James or Sirius, or something with either of them. And I thought it to be worse _because_ of that. Because it had been so unintentional, and done so naively. I had...Taken the one thing from those four boys that I had never, really, had for myself, and I couldn't _possibly_ understand the impact of that.

I was guilty, and I felt _sick_ with my sweaty palms, and suddenly chapped lips.

But I was alive, and it felt good to know something was for sure, as I watched James stare out the window, into that devouring black night.

"It's like we're headed into an abyss." He said quietly, and as I turned my gaze from him to the window, I realized he had never been more right.

The two of us, just sitting there at the end of a deserted hallway, staring out into a more deserted night. My eyes strained to see some source of light, some assurance there was life out there. The lights of the city were nothing but a dim glow, as if from an outside world, and if you sat completely still, and held your breath -- You felt dizzy, and as if you were _flying_ into the dark night. Into an abyss. Absolutely alone in the whole entire universe, except for the messy-haired boy next to me. An _abyss_. The night was, somehow, an abyss, and we had, somehow, found ourselves getting pulled into it -- Into oblivion, in so far that you felt as if you were slowly being crushed beneath something far stronger than you expected, and your _heart_ just might _explode_ if you didn't do something quickly.

But in a moment it was over, -- we were back in reality -- and the wide-eyed wonderment that had taken over me was replaced by an appreciative smile, as the loud, always-anticipated, crackling explosions could be heard. Then the sky was suddenly illuminated by a hundred different colours, a hundred different patterns -- _fireworks_.

They flew straight into the sky and seemed close enough to touch, but really were rather far off. They erupted into colourful fragments, leaving the sky dotted with the after-effects.

And it was 1978.

**abc.**

To me, it was just midnight. It was just a night when fireworks were sent into the sky, and people were far too impressed by them. A night, when the clock struck twelve, wine glasses everywhere were clinking together in welcome of the new year. And every girl in the world, who was half-heartedly excited by the notion of a new year -- Had a boy to kiss. It made sense that I didn't have one to throw my arms around at the strike of the clock, and kiss passionately. Because the new year made me so..._Dispassionate._ What was there to look forward to, honestly? School, exams, and -- little did I know then -- death. The destruction of a society would rest on this new year, and _dammit,_ if I had known I would've _found a way_ to stay in 1977 until I died.

But you had to embrace it. You had to accept the fact sooner or later, and wonder just if the nights would be more restful, if the days would grow brighter, if this new year was going to be the best of your life. If you weren't excited, thrilled, or exhilirated by the coming of a new year -- You were curious.

_I_ was curious, sitting there next to James, with my legs crossed up in the arm chair, and my hands folded in my lap. When the fireworks started I sat with my back a little straighter, and my head a little higher, observing the night with careful, bright eyes. Because whatever cynicism had embedded itself in my mind years before couldn't push it's way through that one, single hopeful thought that I couldn't _help_ but let cross my mind -- _Can things only get better from here?_ In a way that was blunt and real, the answer was -- _Absolutely_ not. But in a desperate, breath-taking way that I came to absolutely thrive on, the answer was -- _God yes, things'll get better. _

For me, they had to.

**abc.**

It struck me, just as midnight had struck about five minutes earlier, that the reason I was sitting in an eerie, looming silence when it was _passed_ midnight -- New Year's Eve's finest hour -- was because James Potter and myself thought ourselves to be such callous and jaded cynics. I had been eighteen for just over a month; him for just ten days. It was extremely naive, and _foolish_ of both of us to have wasted away our teenage years on being so pessimistic and paranoid. Remus was, though, the most adult of all of us, and sometimes I wondered if I should call him "sir", because he seemed that beyond his teenage years. Sirius did, too. Maybe a little less than James, but only because Sirius had _reason_ to be jaded and hard-hearted, and _tried_ not to be. _Peter Pettigrew_ even understood the positive side of being negative, as much of a paradox as it was, though he was a bit childish and slow.

I was disgusted with it, I think. Disgusted with the thought of having lost that clichéd childhood innocence, because I had forced myself to lose it. I had grown up, but frankly -- I didn't have the slightest idea of how to _be _grown up. I thought maybe I did, but the _world_ proved us wrong, and showed us just how unprepared we were, and how useless it was to be so stubborn towards happiness.

Then James Potter was bidding me goodnight, and with a glance to my small watch I saw it was quarter after midnight, and we had not spoke since we had been sucked into that _abyss._

I did not want to -- talk -- anymore. And neither did he. Or perhaps we were just_ unable _to talk anymore, because all we seemed to be doing was _butchering_ everything we had acheived so far -- which at the moment wasn't looking like much --, and somewhere in our subconcious we knew better than to carry on with things like they were that night.

**abc.**

At half passed twelve I left the hallway and the black night behind, turning into the bedroom, and shutting the door gently. Kicking the shoes I had left by the door out of the way, I walked towards the large bed, tossing the dress from the end of it in a brief temper tantrum, and then laid down upon it. For a few minutes I was aware of nothing but the soft bed, and warm comforter, and just allowed myself to sink down into the mattress.

After those few minutes of not being aware of anything, I became_ sharply _aware of the fact that my eyes were not closing. They had no desire to close, no desire to be rested. With a frown, I turned onto my side and stared over the room, at Melly's crumpled dress, and the pile of Christmas presents sitting in a corner of the room.

Feeling as if these few things were a distraction from sleep, I turned onto my other side and stared at the wall, and at the window. Or, I was pretty sure the window was there. No light was coming in through it -- The darkness of the night matched the darkness of the room, and suddenly that warm bed became a rather suffocating place to be.

I clambered out of it, tripping slightly as my feet met the floor, and I grabbed my wand from off of the bedstand, lighting the couple of oil lamps in the room with a single wave of it.

The warm glow of the two lamps was a bit of a comfort, though in a moment it changed to some sort of oddly _obscured_ comfort. The small flames in the lamps made the bedroom appear to quiver, as new shadows crept up the walls, and along the floor, and I realized I greatly preferred the darkness to the dizzying dance of the flames around the room.

My stomach took an unpleasant lurch as I just stood in the middle of the room, one foot on the dress of Melly's, and at that I surrendered to a long, hot shower.

The long, hot shower really did me wonders, and I calmed down a bit. Though there was a pattern with my thoughts, -- as I unnecessarily washed my hair for what would be the second time that day -- They dwelled on my house that was for sale (that really wasn't my house at all), and Sirius Black. There was just _one_ nagging thought that had been planted there by Remus ages ago. Sirius and how he became miserable when he was hurt. And how miserable he was being covered up by some _wretched anger_, and all he did when he was so wretchedly angry, but really miserably hurt, was breathe. And have sex. _Miserable sex_. That guilt from earlier was somehow intensified when I wondered just how much miserable sex Sirius would be having after these Holidays.

**abc.**

It was getting on two o'clock, and all I was interested in was the fact my hair was still very damp -- Sleep wasn't within my radar at all. I laid on top of the bed, using my hands and feet to make shapes on the walls, and I laughed a rather manical sort of laugh everytime I glanced the clock and felt no closer to sleep than I did to finding God, or some sort of religion, or love, or a family, or anything. Sleep was as far gone as peace and hope for a better future was. It was as gone as my rational part of thinking, my positive outlook on life. I damned Remus and the rest of the Marauders for that.

And as it got on two o'clock, and one of the oil lamps flame flickered out of life, a sudden, loud, consistent knock came to the bedroom door. I hurried to it, knowing the knocking was only loud because the person on the other side of the door was probably certain I was sleeping. But I was not, and had never felt more upset by that than I did tonight. This morning. At two A.M.

It was, without a doubt, James on the other side of the door, and that's where he stayed standing, hardly moving a muscle.

He was handsome looking, yet a moody darkness was etched into every corner of his defined features. His eyes were bright, though I don't think I had ever seen his hazel-green look so dark. His jet black, disorderly hair was, oddly enough, falling along his forehead, and was protruding more near the back. It gave him a sort of roguish grace, the way it curtained his blazing eyes, and offered him that blasé gleam that Sirius often posessed. James was, right then, a walking, talking contradiction, who was leaning against the frame of the doorway, on his right arm, and his left hand was tugging back through his hair, trying and failing to remove his fringe from his eyes.

When I pulled the door open he splayed his right hand over it, as if to prevent me from abruptly closing it or something. He straightened up a bit, most of his weight still leaned against the doorframe, and from where I was standing, on the other side of the door, I could hear his slow, steady breathing.

For a moment, I thought that was all he came for. Just to stand there...And breathe, and loom over me, in a way. Eventually, after probably two minutes of nothing but shadowy stares, he began speaking.

And he was speaking in a voice that made me grip the edge of the door rather hard, and that made my head swim as I fumbled to grasp his words.

His voice was low, and deep, holding a completely serious tone to it, that _burned_ it's way into my heart. The impact of what he was saying, for once wasn't lost on me. Him standing here now was completely _random_, yet the most important thing he could _ever_ offer me.

**abc.**

**"Globes and Maps", by Something Corporate. **

abc.

"Lily," James began, needlessly because I was the only one standing in front of him. "It has been about _you_ lately, because I've _wanted_ it to be about you," The unpleasant sensation that had entered my stomach at midnight was slowly -- and unbeknownst to me at the time -- fading away.

"This is _not_ as one-sided as you seem to think it is. You did do some forcing to get us here, yeah. But contrary to popular belief, you did _not_ force yourself between...Anybody. You made your way into my life, and if the Marauders and me aren't like we were -- It's our fault, and not yours. Not a _bit_ your fault, for making me feel so...I dunno. Just _better_, ohkay? I don't want to see that look on your face again, and I don't want you to not be able to utter a _single_ word to me again," By now his voice was easing into a lighter, less earnest tone, and by the time he was finished speaking he had me in the palm of his hand. "You've got nothing to feel guilty about, Lil."

He had lowered his eyes from the gaze he had formed with me, and slowly, in a mesmerizing way, raked his hand back through his hair -- Pausing, and holding it for a moment, before looking back up, and bringing his hand away from it.

Now the beautiful, bright aspect to his eyes was astonishing, and pushed away the surreal dark that had settled into them. I stepped away from the door, allowing him room to enter, without a word.

Because earlier when I couldn't think of anything to say, couldn't possibly form any words -- That was because the bottom of my stomach was falling away and was replaced by some strange, sickening turning. Now I couldn't think of anything to say, because he was so _genuine_, and integrity was just dripping from every damn word.

**abc.**

As he stepped inside the room, I closed the door while observing his attire. Pajama pants, and a grey tshirt -- He had finally discarded the last of his formal wear. He wore a pair of socks, as opposed to me -- my feet were chilly and bare. I was enjoying the cool dampness from my hair, touching my shoulders, and had put a tanktop underneath my button-up pajama shirt, which was completely and sloppily unbuttoned now. When the dim light hit him the right way I could see the outlined goosebumps along his arms, and I had to smile wryly at what opposites we were, and how we never bothered to hide that fact -- Likely because we never really realized that fact, or didn't realize the monumentality of it.

James paused near the shoes I had kicked off, bent down, and set them up neatly. He made his way towards the bed, stretching and yawning, looking rather weary, but...Satisifed. Then he threw himself down on the bed, horizontally, his legs sprawled out, and his feet planted on the floor.

"Do you know what I was doing last New Year's Eve?" He asked me, and his voice seemed to echo through the large room. I, however, was thinking of how I could get the bedroom door back open without him realizing I was rather freaking out over the fact that I closed it. As if we didn't have enough sexual accusations under our belts. I took a breath and stepped away from the door as James lifted his head to look at me.

"Do you?" He asked again.

"No," I said quickly, rushing over bed, and awkwardly sitting down on the very edge of it. "I don't, honestly."

Then he went into a long explanation over his last New Year's Eve, and the drunken state he had found himself in, and the first time he had almost lost Jocelyn, and Sirius's antics, and Remus being missing once again.

Softly he asked me what I had done the previous New Year's Eve, and without the faintest trace of a smile, I simply told him I had been at Hogwarts. Doing homework. And drinking stale butterbeer from Hogsmeade when the clock chimed. It didn't seem that pathetic a year ago, but actually saying it...Made me want to bury my head away somewhere.

**abc.**

Probably twenty minutes had efficiently passed since I had first found him at the bedroom door, and since then I had taken to sprawling out, sideways, next to him on the bed. We spoke in quiet voices of our parents -- His unconditional love for his, and my resentment for mine --, siblings, friends or lack there of -- We just really _talked_ for the first time in ages, and it felt like a weight off my shoulders; _Guilt_ being extracted from my veins. I did not believe James didn't want to be friends with the other three anymore, just based on the way he spoke of them. He wouldn't go as far as admitting he _loved_ them like brothers or anything like that, but it's something I just could tell -- He wouldn't look at me when he talked of them.

And he didn't offer me heartfelt sympathy when I spoke of Jada and the other girls in my year. He said in a know-it-all tone -- That I was brave, naturally, or I would've fell apart long before now. And...Well, I believed him.

When conversation dwindled off into a brief silence, and all I did to ease it was yawn hugely, James turned his head to look at me and grinned.

"You know what I wish right now, Evans?" He asked, casually, though the smirk over his lips was one I, and hundreds of other, had seen many times -- Entirely full of mischief.

"What's that?" I asked, turning onto my side, and propping my head up with my elbow.

"That you were wearing that dress right now," He motioned lazily to the sapphire-blue heap on the floor. "Because I had a _lovely_ view of your _décolletage_."

I was completely unsure of how to react, and so for a moment I chose to just gape at him with raised eyebrows, wondering if he was going to take the comment back. But when his grin widened I gasped, and gave him a swat over the arm that left _him_ gasping for air, through his laughter. Rather _annoyed_ by this, I hit him again, and when he laughed louder I hit him once more.

By this point he was sliding from the bed, and sinking to the floor, clutching at his stomach -- I couldn't help but ponder whether laughter helped build the wonderful muscles of it -- and trying to apologize.

When he spluttered out his apology, I nodded, satisfied. He leaned himself against the bed, bending his legs up and draping one arm over his knees. From where I sat on the edge of the bed, all I could see was the top of his messy-haired head, so I sat on the floor next to him, crossing my legs, and resting my hands in my lap.

The silence was heavy, like we were quite accustom to, and in this moment? There was everything. There was love and resentment, happiness and anger, compliments hidden amongst comments of cleavage; There was lightness and darkness, guilt and integrity; There was a girl, and there was a boy. A girl who was being pulled apart at the seams, and all she really needed -- _all I really needed_ -- was for someone to mend her up, and hold her close, and watch the world fall apart with her. A boy, who was really a man, and who was trying so desperately to hang onto something that was falling apart -- _the girl -- _and that boy, that man was just trying to find a life of his own amongst pureblood pride.

And just then, I couldn't really see how willing James was to mend that girl.

**abc.**

Despite the warm, if not slightly eerie, glow from the oil lamp there was a dark creeping between us. Engulfing us slowly yet surely, and spreading from our eyes throughout our whole bodies. He seemed darker in the dim light. He had been so clean-shaven earlier, yet now there was some damned stubble scattered over his chin and face, offering him the look of a permanent shadow. I felt darker, somehow. Perhaps the bed giving a slight shade to the floor we sat on, or my air-dried curls forcing themselves into my face, concealing the side of it from James. It was the night challenging us, or warning us, or offering us a blanket from one another's invasive look. It was the night we often found ourselves in, waiting for something to happen, something to determine the path we were meant to go down together, or alone. We did our best at night, anxiety and exhaustion forcing us to be honest and genuine, and nothing but who we were.

I wasn't sure, though, whether he was trying to diminish that suffocating darkness, or encourage it, as he spoke slowly, and gently, but with a raw passion that I had mistook for something unidentifiable, but angry.

"You," He muttered to me, yet staring off in another direction. I shifted my hair from my face, and turned sideways to look at him, as he seemed to fight with the words he was already saying.

"You seem to..._thrive_," A thrill shot through my body as said the word, and I sat up a bit straighter. "on being broken."

Maybe it didn't make a lot of sense, as I stared at him with a frown. And maybe the look on his face was apolegetic as he finally met my eyes. Maybe his words were meant to be harsh, or maybe they weren't thought through well enough.

But they were like a cold wind, suddenly, on my skin. Tantilizing it, refreshing it, though. Not damaging it. They registered, and I did not know how to take them, except for in stride. I swallowed them whole, didn't dwell on them much, because when the time came I was sure to cry -- Instead I stared at him, because he was staring at me, and his right hand was nearing my neck.

The gasp of breath I took was inaudible as he lay his hand, just there on my neck, beneath my ear. His hand was warm, as warm as the skin he was touching became. His eyes were warm, and that dark was still around us, but it wasn't _in_ us yet.

I don't think he realized what he was doing. What we were doing, or what this could _destroy_. Or build, I thought, hopefully.

James was leaning closer, closer still as I got caught up in my thoughts -- but then I was right there with him, leaning closer, closer still towards him, him towards me. His lips were slightly parted, hardly even, as he came in so close I could smell everything wonderful about him. His eyes shut, almost squinted I noticed, and then he...He stopped.

It was devastating and cruel for a moment, as my stomach dropped out and I fought off the urge to _run_. I realized, however, that he just _couldn't_ lean any further. For if he did all the leaning, later on all of the blame could be laid on him.

So -- then gratefully, and later regretfully -- I decided to share the blame, leaning in the rest of the way, parting my lips like his were parted, and shutting my eyes, lightly.

And then, at nearly half-past two, as if this was the one thing I had been _living _for --

I was kissing James Potter.

**abc.**

_  
_**"Existentialism on Prom Night", by Straylight Run.  
**

**abc.  
**

The only parts of us touching were, obviously, our lips and where his hand was on my neck. We weren't close enough to feel the other's heartbeat, or close enough to breathe the other in, when they breathed out. But he was so close, it seemed, yet only because we had never been close like _this_ before. He was only close enough to smell. Close enough to touch, maybe, but I didn't _dare_.

James smelled of faded cologne, and something _sweet_ that I couldn't quite place. There was a faint smell of smoke on him, too -- As if he had been sitting by a dying fireplace. I liked to picture him sitting alone in his dark, large living room, staring into glowing embers of a once lively fire -- And maybe, just maybe, he had been thinking of me -- And how I was either lively or fading out.

It was with a quiet gasp from each of us, that we pulled away. My eyes stayed shut as the impression of soft lips -- _his _soft lips -- didn't offer to leave, and I felt his chin bump against my cheek, as he put space between us, sitting up straight. His chin against my cheek gave the strangest, yet loveliest, sensation due to the stubble on his face, and I still wasn't aware of anything, including the fact that this was _James_.

When his hand left my neck, and I was forced to pull my eyes open -- It occured to me that he had the nicest features in the world -- whether it was because I was dizzy from his kiss, or because he _truly _did, I don't know -- and he was quite the pretty picture. Glasses all askew, and hair a mess. Eyes on fire, and bottom lip perfectly pouted.

This was James, I decided, and _of course_ it was him.

**abc.**

There were no further, frenzied kisses, nor was there a murmured goodnight. There was thankfulness for the dim light of the room, and perhaps an air of regret being shared between us both -- But no words. It -- I noted with a tad bit of frustration -- always came down to _no words_. I didn't know whether I was flattered or upset over his lack of words for me. Because when we did talk, made up for when we didn't; He constantly made up for who he wasn't, by being who he was, and it perplexed me -- How that could work out. It didn't, really. He wasn't a lot of things. He wasn't easy to get along with, and he wasn't patient. He wasn't happy, and he wasn't sad. He made up for who he wasn't by being who he was, and whenever I think of that I still go a bit light-headed.

When he left, I was relieved. When he shut the door, I stood up, unsure for a moment -- And then threw myself down onto the bed. I breathed slowly, cursing myself for _swearing_ I could still smell him, and tried not to wonder whether he was still smelling me. The scent of shampoo was still embedded in my damp curls, and it was just a nice, _fresh_ smell that would've been enticing his senses.

There were no butterflies soaring in my stomach, and no erratic breathing. There was me in a large, empty bedroom that suited me as well as -- I thought wryly -- James did, and that wasn't very well at all.

**abc.**

Waking up the next morning was the hardest thing I had to do. I was going to be facing the one boy, man, _James_ who could make me miserable yet intoxicated at the same time. He was going to be there, and we were going to be spending one last day, inavoidably together, before we got on the train to Hogwarts the evening of the 2nd of January, arriving early on the 3rd, and resuming classes on the 4th. One last day free of packing, or anything else to distract us from...Each other. It was 10:30 in the morning, and my head felt rather heavy, as if a headache had just passed -- But I was grinning as I pulled my hair into a loose ponytail.

The morning was grey, and cold -- I slipped a pair of socks onto my feet before leaving the bedroom for an even colder hallway. Sun seemed to be missing from the morning, or at least any strength to the sun was missing, as all that filtered through the windows was soft, grey light. It was easy for my eyes to adjust to, and I hummed quietly to myself as I wandered down the stairs, then down to the Mr and Mrs' floor, and eventually into the entrance hall. I didn't hear anyone in the kitchen, the living room and den both void of anyone, as well. Curious, I found myself standing outside of Mr Potter's study, just off the living room, listening intently for any sign of life _there_.

When I heard rushed voices, I stuck my head into the room, spotting Mr Potter talking to a head in his fireplace. The man had a grey mustache, and was slightly balding, though looked rather set and determined. His voice was deep and gruff, and Jude was nodding furiously at whatever the head was saying.

"We should have known something like this was going to happen," Jude shook his head, interrupting the man. "Not enough preparing, not enough warning...The Prophet will have a field day," Before I could hear just what the Prophet would be having a field day with, a hand on my shoulder caused me to jump, and then I clasped a hand over my mouth so Jude wouldn't hear me gasp.

It just felt like something not to intrude on, and the look on James's face confirmed that for me.

**abc.**

He dragged me out through the living room, into the hallway, without saying a word. When I pulled my arm from his grip he stopped walking, and turned to face me, folding his arms.

No emotion, nothing really, was etched over his face as he looked at me, though I wasn't really bothered by this, as I was too interested in the fact he was wearing dark blue, wizard robes. His thick hair was still wet from an obviously recent shower, and he had seemed to have combed it down the best he could. There was something about him, that I didn't see often or _at all_, as he stood to his full height, looking down at me as if he were about to discipline me.

Then it hit me -- Something was, evidently, going on. James Potter was, afterall, the son of a Ministry employee -- He was a Ministry boy, through and through.

"We've got to leave for a bit," He said quietly, casting a glance towards the kitchen, where I was sure his Mum now was. "All day, maybe. Would you stay here with Lexi?"

"What's going on, James?" But he was shaking his head before I even finished the question.

"_A lot_," He said pointedly, and he wasn't going to elaborate. "Dad's got to go in anyway, and Mum decided we'd go and help however we can."

He was being vague and it didn't help my curiousity at all. I just raised my eyebrows, staring at him expectantly.

"Thanks Lily, you're the best." He said without a reply from me, and his voice was dry, as void of emotion as his face was -- He pushed by me into the kitchen, and within five minutes three out of the four Potter's were gone.

**abc.**

I ate breakfast, alone, at the kitchen table, with not even the Morning Prophet to console me. But then again, I was a big girl, and didn't need consoling, just because I didn't have _him_ there by my side. Why couldn't I just _enjoy_ a moment alone?

Bitterly, I realized, I was becoming dependent. I didn't know when it happened, but I did know _why_ and it disgusted me, really. Because I was so utterly caught up in James Potter and his _world_, that I couldn't quite tell where the lines were drawn -- Where our lives separated, and I had my _own_. I couldn't recall the last time I had felt _abandonned_ simply because I was forced to spend a few hours on my own. Likely when I was a child, and had that need for someone to be with me, to entertain me and what not -- But I learned to appreciate time spent on your own, without being forced to put up with people you do not want to be around anyway.

I supposed that was the difference. I didn't crave that alone time, that time spent in my own thoughts anymore, because I had found the one person, perhaps in the whole world, who I _wanted_ to be around. Even if I was angry with him, even if I wanted to smack him for being so hard-hearted, and moody, and _vague_ -- I wanted to spend every waking moment with James Potter, and that realization startled me so badly that I choked on the toast I was eating.

That's when Lexi presented herself, her mass of curls a decided mess, and her hand covering her mouth in a terrible yawn. She laughed at my choking, and I didn't offer another thought to James throughout the whole day.

**abc.**

The morning was devoted to getting the youngest Potter breakfast, and answering her questions about me being a Muggle. She told me that she thought Muggle boys were cuter, I laughed -- And I didn't notice at the time, but maybe the reason my thoughts didn't stray to James again throughout the day was because Lexi was so much like him, and her wonderful sense of humor kept me unbelievably occupied.

We made cookies and she told me of Melly and what a nice girl she was -- Like I needed anymore confirmation on that. Lexi said that Melly always lets her stay up until midnight on New Year's Eve, and I was rather shocked in remembering that was just _yesterday_. The Potter's party was over mere hours ago, yet there was no sign a party had even _happened_. There was no sign the Holidays had even existed, except for in the living room, where the undecorated Christmas tree still stood, it's fresh scent lingering in the air.

"Did you kiss a boy at midnight?" Lexi asked me as she took bits of cookie dough straight from the bowl and ate it. It was asked with such curious innocence that I almost told her everything that had occured between James and I the night before. Catching myself however, a smile on my face, I shook my head.

"No," It wasn't lying, really, because I did not kiss James at midnight. It was after midnight.

"Did...Melly?" My curiosity wasn't as innocent as Lexi's was. My curiosity was just some sort of desperation to compare myself to Melly. What boy wouldn't want to be kissing her at midnight, I thought, what with her long, sleek hair, willowy form, and pretty smile.

"Hmm," Lexi muttered, looking thoughtful as she scooped more dough from the bowl. "Nope, no boys."

And I was quite satisfied with that.

**abc.**

It was when Lexi started to tell me about Sirius, and ask me about him, that I realized adoration of Sirius Black seemed to be spread wide and far. The only people who didn't love him was his own family, and wasn't that a cruel twist fate.

She said that he was kind of like a brother, but she didn't think her brother was cute like Sirius was. I could do nothing but laugh and agree, and tell her that I thought very highly of Sirius.

Lexi seemed almost sad for a moment, and then considered me with those, wide blue eyes.

"Is James still best friends with him?"

With a smile, I nodded.

"But he's most best friends with you, isn't he?" She scrunched her nose up sympathetically as I'm sure I appeared taken aback, just blinking down at the, already too aware, little girl.

"It's different with us." I told her, simply, and she seemed to accept it, though the look on her face told me different. I couldn't blame her, though, and who could? I still, and always would, harbour a soft spot for Sirius Black, and it was much like her own soft spot.

It was sympathetic to the way he grew up, and a bit proud of the way he turned out. It was a soft spot that I appreciated from the very beginning, because it meant he was never _really_ gone from me. He was never really gone from either of us -- James or me. He was always so very there when you needed him and didn't need him to be. He was understanding, yet irrational. He was ridiculously satisfied with himself, it seemed, and because of that he carried himself with such an _ease_, that you even loved the way he sauntered on by you, with a two-fingered wave, and a hand back through his thick, brown hair.

I wondered if this little girl saved Sirius like James was doing to me. Not so much _saving_, as...Influencing. They were, however, quite the Potter pair.

"What do you think of Remus?" I asked Lexi suddenly, as we sat on the floor in the living room, playing with her new things from Christmas.

She was brushing the hair on the doll I had given her, and she looked down at the doll before looking up at me.

"Remus is like an old man," When I frowned, she shrugged. "He knows a lot, and is kinda sad," She paused again, handing the doll to me, and an outfit that came with her.

"Will you change her, please?" She asked, all pretty and polite.

I did so, and she talked of Remus while I was.

"But he's nice. And he cares a lot. Even about you, I bet."

I considered asking her what she thought of Peter, but changed my mind. I didn't feel right prodding her for information, or something. It was just so strange.

This girl was not five years old, I decided, shaking my head slightly, and handing the doll back to her, that was now wearing a pink dress. She was too smart, too knowing, too wise. I felt so proud and fond of her for it, but this part of me -- the part of me that recalled my own rushed childhood -- felt so terrible for her intellectual realizations, that soon would likely turn into _jaded_ realizations -- And before we knew it, she'd be going to Hogwarts, too.

**abc.**

8 o'clock p.m. came, and 8 o'clock p.m. went, and it was still just Lexi and myself, in a very empty, very large house. She seemed more worried than I did, though, and I wondered just _what_ she knew.

I was anticipating a visit from Sirius. Or Remus. Or the two of them, because that would've been quite comforting. I felt vunerable, and revealed with Lexi, because she could just read into every expression on your face.

By 9 o'clock Lexi had changed into her pajamas and asked for a mug of hot cocoa, looking quite worn, having spent all day eating cookies and giggling madly, but in between talking of three boys who all cared for her like the younger sister she was.

I had turned lights on, and lit lamps as we walked through the house, going to her bedroom. The night just seemed to engulf this house too quickly.

Lexi got underneath the covers, smiling at me, before asking me to tell her a story, or sing her to sleep.

So, I laid next to her on the bed, above the covers, and played with her pretty hair, while humming a melody that just seemed to haunt me, murmuring words here and there, wondering whether this was an actual song, or just one I had invented at some point.

It seemed to work, however, because she began to blink frequently, and soon her eyes weren't opening as quickly after she shut them, and eventually they were fluttering completely shut.

Her breathing got slightly louder, as her mouth fell open, and sleep had clearly found her. The comfort I suddenly found in the sound of her steady breathing was rather wonderful. Startling, but wonderful, and I just looked down at her, with curiously slanted eyes, and a smile with unwavering _fondness_ for the smallest Potter.

I was watching the doorway, expectantly, when he arrived at it, knocking quietly on the door, though it was half-open. Relief flooded through me, instantly though reluctantly. Him standing there, now decked out in a pair of jeans, and a nicely fitted dark t-shirt, dug up everything I had spent all day not thinking of. Specifically, one certain thing that was being avoided with ease.

"Oh, she's asleep," James muttered, passing through into the room, and focusing on the blue-eyed blonde. He bent down, placing a quick kiss onto her forehead, and then a heavy sighed passed through his lips. There was something about him, that I had _never_, ever seen before. It just radiated around him, and I felt quite out of place. Or perhaps whatever was radiating around him was what was out of place. Something..._Paternal_. He was watching his little sister with eyes of a parent, and it was beyond his years, yet oddly -- It fitted him.

"Sorry we took so long." He said, offering me a brief glance, and then leaving the room before I even had a chance to sit up.

**abc.**

I didn't lay there too much longer, for Mr and Mrs Potter's voices were fast approaching, meaning they were fast approaching, and dealing with them was some sort of ability that I didn't seem to possess. I slipped from the room and then by their bedroom, where they were stood decked out in their night clothes, and down the stairs without being noticed.

Feeling groggy myself, and yawning silently, I made my way into the kitchen, which never failed in being blindingly bright, with all of it's white décor. He was standing there, leaning against the counter with a mug in his hand. He seemed like a dark, jagged cut-out standing against the white of the kitchen, with his jeans that were considerably faded and considerably snug. His matted-down hair didn't last, as it was sticking up worse than I had seen it in awhile, and was like a bolt of black, clashing with his rather pallid face.

"What're you drinking?" I asked, hating myself for having nothing better to ask, standing there as awkward as anything, quite the near the door.

"Tea," He answered, simply, and I smiled, because he was everything a contradiction was made of. "Do you want some?"

James motioned to the kettle, that still had steam rising out of it. Without an answer from me, he flicked his wand and a mug appeared on the counter, the kettle instantly filling it with the liquid. He picked the mug up, and with his own still in his hand he walked towards me, thrust it into my hands, and sat down at the kitchen table.

He looked awful, and weary, and circles were forming beneath his eyes, and given the early hour -- It was rather strange. But everything about that day was rather strange. From James and Dani going to 'help' at the Ministry, to the lack of "built in babysitter", Melly.

I cleared my throat gently, taking a sip of the tea, watching him carefully.

"So, where were you guys all day?" I asked, moving across the kitchen to stand closer to the table.

His lidded eyes were staring into the mug, and when I spoke his stare did not falter. For a moment, it was as if he hadn't heard me through his intent staring, but then he looked up at me, not bothering to hide a frown.

"The ministry." He said, simply, and I nodded, though I already caught on to that earlier.

It my was turn to lower my eyes to the mug, which I held in both of my hands, reveling in the warmth penetrating through it, as it was the only warm aspect about this kitchen.

He was -- with a smug almost, _daring_ expression on his face -- waiting for me to speak again, but I didn't want to. Because any further questions I asked, he would somehow dodge, and I'd end up knowing less than when we started. He would somehow make me feel guilty for wanting to know what was going on, and that was one aspect of James Potter that was most certainly not a positive attraction.

He just had so much power -- without anybody really realizing it -- over people. One single expression, one word, or one scoff -- And he'd instantly have you regretting whatever it was you said, or did. When it came to being manipulative, James was more likely to be accused of it over Sirius. He was an only child for so many years, and had a pair of parents who we were so fascinated by their little boy, that they allowed him to pull people in _so close_, and then make them squirm under his gaze. One boy shouldn't be aware of how easily people give into his expectations and demands, it might give him an inflated head.

"Don't you think it's just _fair_ that I know what's going on?" I asked him, quietly; helplessly.

"There's nothing going on," James told me, with a casual shrug, but the tension in the way he was sitting told me otherwise. He was almost rigid, as if he were waiting for the end of the world to come. As if the sky was about to light up with balls of fire, and he'd have to deal with screams from unsuspecting people. His jaw clenched, his shoulders tensed up -- He could've been fighting the urge, or the need to run, from what...I really didn't know. "Nothing at all."

The grip he had on his mug, still held in one hand, was a white-knuckled sort of grip, and for a moment I swore he was grinding his teeth.

I let out some pathetic sound, somewhere between a gasp, or a sob, or a shout -- And his hazel eyes met my green ones, as I wondered, if the two colours were ever to merge, which colour would stand victorious, which one would do the overpowering -- When he dropped his stare back down to his hands, with a little less hostility, I decided with a sudden surge of pride that as much as he tried to hate me, he just never, ever would be able to. It made me feel better, yet slightly unwanted, what with him trying in the first place.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked, and for a moment I thought it was angrily but in a second I realized it was as helplessly as the last time I spoke. He had drained his mug, propping his elbows up on the table, and his head sunk into his hands, curling his fingers into his hair.

I panicked for a moment, seeing his eyes squeeze shut, and I was worried he was going to start crying. I felt revolted for a second, until I saw his cheeks were dry of any tears, and then silently berated myself for being so horribly judgemental. I didn't know why I couldn't deal with a boy crying, but I just _couldn't_. James Potter wasn't one to cry, I decided, seeing his eyes had been squeezed shut more with frustration than sadness. He winced, gingerly touching his forehead, and cursed loudly as his hands slipped from his hair, and his head banged inelegantly against the table.

"James," I said, soothingly, reaching a hand out as he pulled his head up, and he didn't seem to have the energy to glare me down any longer.

"Headache," He murmured, his eyes shut, as I took my wand out. "Terrible one."

I wracked my brain for anything that could ease it, and muttered a couple of spells, looking at him with nothing but pity on my face. It was so much more than a headache, little did I know.

"Any better?" I asked, close to a whisper, and he nodded, though I was wasn't sure he meant it.

He stood up, pulling himself together it seemed, gathering his mug in one hand, and taking my half-empty mug from in front of me.

There was a sullen handsomeness to him, as he poured the rest of my tea down the sink, and rinsed his own mug out. It was all over his face, and in the fluid way he moved. For some reason, my heart broke for him, and if he wasn't one to cry, then I was going to cry for him, because _something had happened_, and just wasn't about to let me know. He was so loving, but so moody, and I just couldn't get a firm hold on anything that he was.

"What happened today?" I asked, one last time, and when silence was my response, I stood up and made to leave the kitchen.

My hand was splayed across the door, pushing it just as he said my name.

"Lily." It was quiet, yet that powerful demand was still there.

"_What_." I said pointedly, trying to express my frustration for him, but finding I couldn't tonight, as I turned around to face him.

His back was to me, staring out the window over the sink, each one of his hands grasping the counter on either side of him.

"Could you come here, please." His tone had changed so dramatically that the steps I took towards him were immediate.

He turned around, and I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but when he pulled me into his arms, it was the only thing I could have expected.

James held onto me tightly, leaning himself against the edge of the counter, his arms wrapped around my lower back, and his face buried into my hair -- He didn't say another word, as much as I wished he would.

I hesitated for only a moment before wrapping my arms back around him, not as tightly as his were, because he was the one holding me, and I think he needed reassurance of that.

When he shifted his arms, after countless minutes of just beind held by him, and I heard him swallow hard -- It was apparent to me that some part of James's world had _already_ come to an end tonight, and it wasn't any of my business, just then, who had made his world come to an end, because when James did something like this -- You held on for dear life, litterally or metaphorically, because it was a rare thing.

**abc.**

**"Rescued", by Jack's Mannequin.**

**abc.**

Done. I hope you like it. It's so focused on Lily and James, I know, but the next chapter is unbelievably eventful. There are reviewer responses and lyrics on my livejournal. I believe the link works now.

Love.


	19. Bruised & Burned

**Chapter 19  
**"Bruised and Burned"

**abc.**

**"Vindicated", by Dashboard Confessional.**__

**abc.**

Somehow, though I wasn't sure how it happened, or just how fast it happened -- I was gone from James's suddenly offputting embrace, and found myself in the dark living room. I turned the television on, staring at it's large screen, at the holiday rerun's over every channel. It pissed me off that they had a television, that they had electricity -- That they thought they could have the best of both worlds. It didn't seem right to me, and I didn't understand why _then_ all of this was occuring to me -- But it was, and I looked around the room with a rather upturned nose.

Muggles couldn't fix some things with a wave of a wand, and couldn't travel places simply by concentrating real hard on it. Muggles had cars for that -- Nobody in this Magical world deserved to have those Muggle things. Why did their lives need to be made easier? Sometimes I found myself in hysterics -- Just trying to figure out where it was I truly belonged. The Wizarding world thought Muggles were so naive, and so unaccomplished, and I _was_ a Muggle. I was born to ordinary people, I was raised an ordinary child with too many freckles, I spoke an ordinary language, and I loved ordinary things -- And in some people's eyes I was _lesser_ because of that. I was born into that world, and to so _many_ people I wasn't _worthy_ to be in this Magical haven. I was a Mudblood. I was a Muggle. I,-

When the anger that had quickly started coursing through my veins reached it's peak, and I felt like _screaming_ -- I realized the one thing, I came to terms with the _one thing_ that I should have almost seven years ago...

_You're a Witch, Lily_, I told myself, warm realization flooding through me and replacing the anger -- I was just as worthy as the next Pureblood.

A bit of the bitterness that had been hanging around me since I got here, in this upscale home with these basic strangers -- Well, it seemed to ease away, as I leaned my head back against the couch and considered things.

Mrs Potter and hating me. Did she really hate me? She acted...hostile towards me, and like she would prefer me not to be there -- But maybe it was me. Maybe that awkward, unwelcome feeling I got was taking a toll on me, and that toll was obvious to her. I was uncomfortable around her, and bitter about so many things that I was just beginning to realize -- Maybe it was all over my face. Maybe the way I looked at her too-large house was obvious to her, and maybe it was because of the way I was acting -- So desperate, and needy; shy and clingy -- That she thought I wasn't good enough for her son. And now, it seemed to matter what she thought of me. Within the last _day_ -- Things changed.

Drastically. Things had changed so drastically that I wasn't even caught up with them yet; Unsure of whether or not I _wanted_ to be caught up with it. Because something had happened, and I had been left with Lexi for hours, and nobody was speaking, and there were no _newspapers_ anywhere -- But that was just the beginning. Sirius and Remus were decidedly absent, and I didn't believe the story of them going to visit some of Remus's relatives. James didn't even know if he liked his friends anymore. He was so hell-bent on changing, so hell-bent on becoming what I needed, and assuring me I had somehow become what he had needed. And somewhere in the back of my mind, more preoccupied by James and the Maruaders -- I remembered that we had kissed. It was a distant sort of fuzzy memory, where you can't remember everything with too much detail, yet you just can't _forget_. And as I pushed the thought from my mind just like every other time it had entered it -- I remembered it had just been last night, that we kissed.

But the fact of the matter was -- James still needed those friends. He still liked those friends. He still _thrived_ off those friends, just like I _thrived_ on being broken.

I stopped thinking, stopped moving my hands around impulsively and nervously, and just let it flow, coldly, throughout me.

When I had pushed myself from his arms, left him standing there in that kitchen -- I had not known why his arms, so tight around me, had become so suffocating, and uncomfortable. But now it all made sense. It was all tied in to the night before. Not so much the forgotten kiss, the mistake, the regret -- Whatever it was. It was him telling me that I thrived on being broken. It hit me while I was standing there in his arms, pressed so close I could feel the deliberately slow rhythm of his breathing -- And I had hated it. I hated how I felt when I remembered it. It didn't feel like that the night before, it didn't feel so cold, so _real_. Wrapped up in his warm arms, though, it felt like I was being drowned, slowly, in a pool of icy, cold water when I realized this was the boy who said it. I was being hugged by a contradiction, so warm and so sure that I was broken -- That I _thrived_ on it. It was, as said before -- Offputting, and I had, really without thinking, left him.

Then, James was walking into the living room and towards me, faster than I could have prepared for. I had no time to leave, because if I did have time to leave -- I would have left. I was a coward, I was a child, I was a Mudblood, I was a Witch -- And I suddenly wanted to avoid confrontation at all costs.

Before I could tell him I wasn't talking tonight, before I could make a run for it -- He looked at me. He stared me down in a way that only _he_ could, and I realized I wasn't going anywhere right now. I wasn't going to say anything right now.

**abc.**

The light from the televison washed over his body, and made his face stand out vividly from the swallowing dark of the rest of the living room. His hands were at his sides, in loose fists, and his jaw was clenched, and he seemed to be having some internal conflict -- I was waiting for his deep voice, all serious and wicked, to tell me just where I could go, if I wasn't going to understand his need to not confide in me.

It never came, however, as his mouth fell open in a sigh, and his hands went to his hair, pulling it back from his eyes. When I saw the look on his face, saw the distress, the desperation, I realized -- He was as much of a coward as I was tonight.

I pressed my lips together, watching him closely as he moved towards me again. He sat on the floor, instead of next to me on the couch, and I found him leaning against my legs. Not just gently leaning there, in an affectionate sort of way, only being done because there was a need for some sort of contact. No, he leaned back against me, as if he was throwing all of his weight back, and he bent his legs up, draping his arms over them, burying his face away near his knees.

There were long, drawn out moments of complete silence, where neither of us moved, and I wasn't sure either of us even breathed. The room was dark, the night was dark -- The large, uncurtained window behind us offered nothing but a far-off view of a few stars, and the only source of light was the blueish, altering glow coming from the television.

It contorted our features a bit -- Made my skin seem paler, and as I stared at the back of his head, his hair appeared darker. The best way to describe the light of the room was dark blue -- A dark, tainted blue.

The atmosphere in the room -- No, the atmosphere between _us_ was...Practically unbearable. It wasn't as heavy as the night before -- Not heavy enough to be making our breathing heavy, and hard. It was too light. It was thin, and vague. It was like we were trekking up a steep mountain, and the air around us was thinning, until we were left gasping for one gulp of air -- One gulp of salvation.

We were starving for salvation.

**abc.**

**"Dark Blue", by Jack's Mannequin.  
**

**abc.  
**

I wanted to know if he believed in God. I wanted to know if he was going to be an Auror; if he was going to follow in his Father's footsteps. I wanted to know if he believed in monogamy, or if the idea of a heated affair excited him. I wanted to know his deepest fear, and his greatest accomplishment. I wanted to touch his hair, and taste his bitterness. I wanted to know everything about him, ask him every question I could think of. I wanted him to tell me more about his Mum, and Peter Pettigrew. I wanted him to tell me what it felt like to be loved so unconditionally. There was something about him, sitting there like he was, with the weight of the world on his broad shoulders -- The weight of a smashed, torn, bruised world. There was something about the weariness etched beneath his eyes, and the awareness surrounding him that made me want to thrive on that vunerability instead of something broken.

There was no way to sate that flaming curiousity, coursing through every inch of my exhausted body. There were no words to be spoken, none that would ease the peculiar state we had found ourselves in. I wanted to shout at him, and tell him I was angry, and selfish, and _flawed_. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't a person anyone would want to be around. I wanted to assure him I was meant to be alone, and that I would be fine alone. I wanted to make him mean nothing to me.

I found myself unable to do or say any of those things, and the one thing I did find myself do was surprising. Random. Unnecessary.

James had, with a sigh heavy enough to break him in two, leaned his head back to rest against my legs, that were neatly tucked against the couch, pressed together. As if I had set out to do only this, I reached my right hand to his head, and combed it gently through his hair.

He adjusted himself against my legs, pressing against them in a way that made me, almost automatically, part them -- In order for him to be comfortable, and in order for me to reach his hair better.

It felt like I had done this a hundred times before; Like we had found ourselves in this exact position again and again. The feel of his hair between my fingertips, however, was the most exotic yet enticing thing I had ever experienced. The unruly strands were soft, and his hair was thick -- The smell of his, somehow manly, shampoo was embedded deep within the mass of jet-black hair. It stuck up easily, even with the gentlest of strokes, and I had to wonder who was enjoying it more.

The sound he made, though, when I tugged gently on his hair, causing it to stick up horribly, was the single most desirable sound I had ever heard. I brought my other hand into his hair, and threaded all ten of my fingers through it, tugging on it once again -- And the same sound, somewhere between a soothed sigh and a groan, escaped his lips. I found myself swallowing hard, the events of that day becoming cloudy in my mind.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized that both Potter children, James and Lexi, liked having their hair played with. Not so much _liked_ as they were bloody well addicted to it. James's reaction was a bit...More than Lexi's, as she just seemed to fall straight to sleep once you started playing with her hair. It was her sweet little weakness. James? It was his sweet little turn on.

My cheeks burned scarlet as the thought ran through my head, and I pulled my hands out of his hair, trying to catch my breath. Having his head resting where it was didn't help matters, and the urge to _snog him senseless_ ran through my body.

I wanted to kiss him. It's the only thing, I decided, I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I wanted to hear him make that sound a thousand times over, and I didn't want to, ever, talk to him again. I didn't need to. All I needed to do was kiss him. As unresolved as things lay, as horribly tainted as things seemed -- I wanted, _needed_ to kiss that boy again.

**abc.**

A minute or two after I had took my hands from his hair, he had got up from the floor, and sat down next to me on the couch. I was barely aware of this, until I found myself, abruptly, turning my whole body to face him, crossed my legs, and stared at my hands.

I looked up at him, cautiously, and saw the glower on his face. The frown that rested over his features seemed to sit there with ease, and a crease came down between his eyebrows increasing the dark look. His lips were set in a bit of a pout, though his jaw was clenched, and his eyes were readily meeting my own stare.

When I looked away from him, back to my folded hands resting in my lap, he shifted next to me, possibly moving closer. And then each of his hands were gripping my face, forcing my gaze back to his. I knew my eyes were wide as I stared at him, looking so angry and sullen, and positively _bruised_.

There were words offering to spill from his lips. Possibly words that would offer each of us that forgotten salvation, or maybe they were words that would involve the happenings of the passed day -- Or, perhaps, they were words telling me how much I meant to him.

But it was all a bit of hopeful thinking on my part. That hope that sparked in me when I thought he was going to say something, offering closure of the night before, or today, or of damaging kisses, was instantly extinguished when his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips, and he began to lean forward.

He was going to kiss me. _He's going to kiss you_. James was going to kiss me. _James was going to kiss you._

The thought was there, running through my mind, as he leaned in quickly -- Quicker than the night before. He was determined, and irrational, and he was going to kiss me. I had wanted it, hadn't I? I had needed it, hadn't I?

That need, that want, slipped away just as quick as he was leaning. We couldn't. I wouldn't, actually. Not with the unfinished business, with the day that had just passed...

"We can't." I leaned my head back away from him, trying to have his hands fall away from my face, but he just gripped me tighter, refusing to let me back down.

The words seemed to burn him like his eyes so often burned me. Maybe it wasn't just me denying him a kiss, maybe anything I said, after leaving him in the kitchen like I had -- Maybe everything I said was going to burn him from here on out. Maybe that agressive -- No, _passionate_ -- Maybe that passionate look was _burned_ on his face now. It was a startling look. His eyes sharp and focused, dancing with everything he saw -- Passion. He was passion. James Potter_ was_ passion, whereas Sirius Black _had_ passion.

"We can't?" The pitch of his voice high and cracking, an amused tone settling in it, though it was a sad kind of amusement.

"I don't _fucking_ care if we can't," His eyes sparked, lit, and burned just like everything else was right now.

Then something leaked out. He spoke so...rawly, that I knew it was based on _whatever_ had happened that day. The world was his enemy right now, he was fighting to be it, fighting to beat time, because something had happened.

"The world's not going to _wait_ for us," James's voice was still breaking on certain words. "It doesn't care about when we can or can't, Lily. It's just going to fucking pass us by."

I swore I was crying as he tucked my hair behind both of my ears, his fingers grazing my earlobes as he did so. He slid his hands from my cheeks, down to the sides of my neck, and I didn't know if he was pulling me towards him, or if I was leaning.

I swore I was crying. The emotions running through me would've _normally_ provoked tears, but I didn't feel any. My cheeks were burning, and my eyes stung, and there was a lump in my throat refusing to be swallowed -- Releasing a sob would've felt so _amazing_ right now, and I never, ever wanted to cry so terribly before in my life, than I did then. It was just the beginning, though.

Just as I felt a sob creeping up my throat, James spoke once again, in a soft murmur.

"Ladies first." He said, and the meaning of what he meant was lost on me, until I found myself closing the space between us, and the threatening sob was suddenly swallowed whole, as our lips met for the second time, ever.

It wasn't like the first time, in any way. It wasn't innocent, and it wasn't soft, and it wasn't careless. I had only been kissed a minimal amount, but it was unlike any of the previous kisses.

His mouth had somehow opened against mine, within seconds of our lips meeting, and I was forced to consider my next move, sitting there, pressed against him. But then my lips were parted, too, and I was pretty sure he had done it. I didn't know. I couldn't think.

There was the strangest, yet warmest, tingling sensation as the kiss deepened, slightly. It wasn't as deep as it was...Rough. Hurried, frenzied, and hard. His mouth could've been bruising my own, and I was thankful of it.

I could barely breathe after what had to have been a whole minute of James Potter's lips on my own. He pulled back and I sucked in some air, and then he was bumping his lips back against my own, not really kissing them, just roughly grazing them.

I felt so tormented, but exhilirated. I finally felt well-kissed after we pulled away for the last time -- I finally felt like I knew what I was doing.

Pulling away was more depressing than kissing him when I shouldn't've been was. It was damaging to stare into that face, and those eyes, and see his lips so red, and knowing it was because of me. He was breathing hard, though he hid it well, and the only way I knew was when his chest pressed tighter against me.

I took unsteady breaths as he continued hanging onto me, one hand at the back of my neck, and the other stroking up and down my arm, as if to calm me. Sooth me. Relieve some tension. Really, shouldn't've I been doing that for him?

"I'm alright," I muttered, as I felt his forehead touch against my own. "I'm alright, I'm alright, I'm alright."

"You're lying." He whispered back, though he didn't seem to really care. I hated him. I needed him. He was passion.

"We could, Lily," He began. "We _did_." Then he untangled himself from me, and went to bed, at quarter to ten on a broken night.

**abc.**

I don't remember what time it was when I went to bed, though I thought it to be before eleven. I don't remember walking through the house, making my way to what was my temporary bedroom. I don't remember having any thoughts after James left the room. I hardly remember breathing.

I do remember, though, that just as I was pushing open the bedroom door, I saw him sitting there, at the end of the hallway, staring out that window. I do remember feeling like going to sit with him. I do remember feeling my heart swell with something indescriable, as I turned my back on him, and immediately sank into a well needed sleep.

It was quarter to eight when I got up that morning. I had showered, quickly, without bothering to check the time, and dressed in a pair of comfortable jeans, along with a dark-navy sweater. My hair still wet, and droplets of water clinging to the fabric of the sweater, I made my way downstairs, humming softly, and swinging my arms back and forth.

The fact I couldn't smell any breakfast cooking, or any clatter indicating Mr and Mrs Potter were up, prompted me to check the nearest clock for the time. Seven forty-five. I had been awake since at least quarter after seven, then.

I stood there, in the hallway, wondering whether I should just go back to bed, when I peered into the living room, and saw what should have been more surprising to me than the early time.

James and Sirius -- James sitting on the couch; Sirius sitting in an armchair he had pulled up to the other side of the coffee table -- playing a game of chess, the old-fashioned Muggle way. It was quieter, I supposed, than the raucous way of Wizard chess. Neither of them had to mutter a word, and maybe that was the reason for their choosing to play the Muggle way. Maybe speaking was just beyond all of us now.

Neither of them looked up as I entered the room, tugging the sleeves of my sweater down over my hands in an impulsive sort of way, until James had completed a particularly nerve-wracking move. Then Sirius looked over at me, James's gaze following a moment after.

"Good morning. Up awful early." Sirius commented, as I walked around his armchair, to situate myself on the couch, next to James.

"Could say the same for you." I told him, stifling a yawn that washed over me as soon as I entered the room.

I curled my legs up next to me on the couch, and put one of my hands between my legs to warm it. The other hand draped over the arm of the couch, as I watched James, leisurely. He moved again, and then Sirius was left to concentrate hard on his next one.

James took advantage of Sirius's lack of attention for us at the moment, and looked over to me.

"It's a comfort issue." He told me, in a quiet voice that could have sung me back to sleep, motioning to the chess board.

I understood what he meant. Chess was his comfort. Chess with his best friend was his comfort. Knowing it was still there to play, knowing that after all that had gone on, whatever had gone on -- They could still find themselves playing a game of chess at ridiculous hours, and still sit in a comfortable silence together.

For a brief moment, when I saw the look on Sirius's face as he watched James make a play -- I hated James for ever doubting him. For ever doubting any of them. Because no matter what he told me, no matter how he tried to say it was 'about me' lately -- It wasn't true. It just wasn't. I wasn't the best friend who had come over at an ungodly hour -- Just to sit in silence and play a normal game of chess. I didn't know what had happened, I didn't know near enough about him --

Sirius was here now, and Sirius was James's best friend.

**abc.  
**

I sat and watched them play, for about a half an hour, before Mr and Mrs Potter got up. They had played in complete silence, Sirius only speaking once more to reply to my question of Remus's whereabouts. He answered with an unconvincing reason that was growing popular with Remus -- He wasn't feeling well.

When the game didn't show any sign of letting up, I excused myself -- needlessly, because they ignored it as they had ignored every other attempt I had made at conversation -- and went to help Mrs Potter with breakfast.

She was grateful, but only because Mr Potter had to be into work in ten minutes, and we had to get something whipped up soon.

I made him an omlet, while he munched on some toast, and Mrs Potter rushed around gathering papers, and long pieces of parchment, stuffing them into the briefcase he had laying on the table next to him.

Mr Potter was standing from the table, while still chewing his last bite of omlet, and gathering his briefcase into his hands, looking wearily at Mrs Potter, and then thanking me for the breakfast. Sensing the tension suddenly between them as he prepared to leave for work, I told Dani I had something to return to Melly, and would be back in a few minutes.

It felt like as good of a time as any to return the dress, and as the kitchen door swung shut behind me, I saw Mrs Potter wrapping her arms around her husband, muttering frantically.

Brushing off the sinking feeling in my stomach, I went to my room, and prepared Melly's dress. I used a couple of charms on it to erase the distress in the fabric, and then folded it into an extra gift bag that was lying on the floor.

The sinking becoming harder to ignore, and now paired with a flitting feeling of hyperventilation, I decided to come to terms with something other than returning Melly's dress. I had to pack this morning. We were to take the train back to Hogwarts this evening, and with every minute that passed, I felt worse and worse about leaving.

I thought about it as I left the house, embracing the cold morning easily, as I single-handedly buttoned my coat up. I thought about how I was so excited to get here, to the Potter's -- Then I was brought down, so quickly, and I wanted nothing more than to _leave,_ and go back to Hogwarts -- And I wondered when it had changed. As far as I had known, before that morning, I had still wanted to leave as soon as possible. But sometime, caught up in the lies, and the Holidays, and the parties, and the confrontations -- I had changed my mind. I had grown fond of almost everything about the Potter's, and the house. Even Mrs Potter was growing on me, even if she tried not to like me --

I couldn't hate a woman who I saw so much of in James.

The street was empty, and the morning was pale. Frost crept out of the cracks in the pavement, and vapour floated through the air, at the slight change in temperature -- The frozen ground, and the sun trying to warm things up. Smoke rolled out of chimneys, and Christmas lights still decorated the outside of people's homes. The morning was lovely, on this picturesque street that Muggles and Magical alike called home -- And behind me loomed the ultimate house on the street.

The Potter's house, likely the largest and most beautiful home, stood tall there on the street, and I couldn't help but turn around to look at it, when I nearing the middle of the street.

My bag dropped out of my hand, and I stumbled to pick it up without pulling my eyes off of the house, covered in weak sunlight, and shadows -- The breath had left me for a moment, as an overwhelmingly foreboding feeling hit me.

I tried to turn my back on it -- the house and the feeling -- but I realized just what was so foreboding about that moment as I looked back over my shoulder --

I felt like I'd never see that house again, after we left today. Not the _same_ again. Something was so, momentarily, chilling about it. Offputting.

And for once it wasn't just the thought of James and me.

**abc.**

**"Fix You", by Coldplay.**

**abc.**__

I hurried the rest of the way across the street, and up the drive to Melly's house. I knocked on the door, and rang the doorbell, but when there was no response, I tried the doorknob. It was unlocked, so I ventured inside the warm house, calling Melly's name in a sing-song.

Her parents were obviously not home, and by the looks of it, either was she. As, I went to set the bag down, to just leave it for her, I heard a soft _thud_, and Melly's voice come from upstairs. It sounded as if she were laughing, so I went up the staircase, and made my way down the hallway towards her room.

"Melly," I began, coming to stand in front of her bedroom door, that was already halfway open. I pushed it the rest of the way, looking down at the bag to check it hadn't fallen out or something of the sort, and when I looked back up, into the room, I dropped the bag for the second time that morning.

"Oh. _Oh_. Oh! I'm sorry, I was just returning the dress. I didn't think...I didn't know. Uh. Ohkay, I'll see you." I muttered in hurry, leaving the bag where it was the doorway of the bedroom, and turned to rush away.

I had stared for about two seconds, while the two of them froze, and stared at me. Laying on top of Melly -- the sweet, sister-like neighbour girl -- was none other than Remus Lupin. She had her leg hooked around his waist, and he looked quite scantily clad, but I didn't stay to find out if he was, or where hands were, or anything of the sort.

I was halfway down the hall, blushing with embarrassment of having _caught_ them, and hardly able to imagine how they must feel -- When I heard Remus tell Melly he had to explain it. I began running down the stairs, hearing him behind me. I turned to look at him, and saw he was fumbling to fasten his jeans up. I was already _out_ the front door when _he_ caught me, though in a less compromising position.

"Lily, wait." He grabbed onto my arm, and held me in place, and I turned to look at him, though I quickly looked away again.

"Come out here." Remus stepped outside onto the doorstep, once deciding I wasn't going to run again, and shut the door.

He took advantage of this moment of -- completely awkward -- silence, and fastened the jeans he hadn't succeeded with a moment before. They were faded, had becoming-holes in the knees, and were clinging tightly to his hips. He stood, barefoot, and shirtless, and I noticed that he was quite scrawnier than James.

Remus's ribs were faintly visible, though his skin was tanned, but battered. Scars lined his chest -- Though most weren't noticable, a few ran deep, and there were some obvious recent wounds. His chest was rather weak looking at first glance -- paired with the visible ribcage -- but was actually a bit toned. Sprigs of sandy-coloured hair covered one place, and the rest was smooth skin, save for some hair travelling down his stomach, below his jeans. His stomach could have rippled with muscles, if he didn't give off the impression of someone who had far too much energy and activity, but ate far too little to even it out.

He scowled at me when he caught me glancing, partially satisfied with the sight before me, and proceeded to dig in the back pocket of his jeans. A moment later he pulled out his wand, and a pack of cigarettes. He put one in his mouth, lit it with his wand, and shoved both things back into his pocket.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked, finally, though I didn't need an explanation of the situation I'd just walked in on.

I was angry for some reason, with the discovery of them. He was supposed to be sick, while two of his best friends played a boring yet comforting game of chess, or else he would have been there, participating in that boring comfort any way he could. He was supposed to be looking moody and pained like they did, and _not_ over here on top of the neighbour girl.

The thing that angered me, I think, was the fact that no one else knew. If they had known, if Sirius and James had known -- They wouldn't've tried to explain Melly off as a sister-like figure, to all of them. If they acutally had a _relationship_ it would have come out before _this_, and certainly not in _this_ way.

"Here." I took my heavy coat off as he sucked on the cigarette, and thrust it into his hands. I wore a sweater beneath it anyway, and one glance across his chest told me that he wasn't handling the below freezing morning too well.

Reluctantly he accepted it, and forced it on. The sleeves came up to, almost, his elbows, and the fabric strained across his shoulders, but at least it was something.

"You're a damned hypocrite," I told him, and he quirked his eyebrows at me.

"Listen, I didn't come down here to be bitched at by you, about something you can't possibly understand,-"

"I think I understand perfectly. You told Sirius you were sick, and then came over here to get some before you had to go back to Hogwarts."

The scowl over his handsome yet tired and rugged features deepened, and he blew smoke directly in my face.

"If you'd let _me_ explain it, then perhaps you'd stop bloody well _overreacting_. You do it with everything, though, don't you? You make little things out to be so much more. Like your and James's friendship, for example,-"

I raised a hand to slap him over the face, but he was too quick for that, so instead I slapped my hand against his bare chest.

"Shut up," I told him, and his scowl lifted instantly, replaced by amused curiousity. "You're a hypocrite. You tell _me_ not to lie, and to stand up to people, and to prove myself. You tell _me_ that I'm not trusted, and that I'm not going to be trusted. But you lie, and you deceive, and you just fucking instigate things. You've got these three apparently amazing friendships with three different people, yet your head is too far up your ass to see that they're all based on _lies_. You and me, Remus? We're in the same boat now. You're doing exactly what I did. Kissing someone your friends know well, behind their back's. I just...I _hate_ you."

He outright laughed when I said that, and smirked at me, the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"You're being awfully dramatic today. What's going on?"

I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face, I wanted to reveal him for the lying bastard he really was, I wanted to --

I didn't want to break down. I didn't want to start rambling on to him, trying not to cry. I didn't want to admit that anything was wrong, that this boy touched a nerve with me. I didn't want him to know anything, yet there I was.

Somehow, I was sitting on the step, while he stood over me, smoking like the chimney he wished he was, listening intently, whatever his actual intentions afterwards would be.

"Something's happened. I know something's happened. I know that he's _hiding_ things from me, but what business do I have being upset when I hid things from him! But I know this is so much more important than petty kissing, and _speaking_ of petty kissing. God, Sirius and I are so...So finished. We hadn't even started, but here we are -- Friends. I told you I wanted something with him, yet all I did was push him further from the picture. And _James_. He's such an idiot. Such a passionate, bloody idiot, and oh my _god,_ what've I done with that? We kissed, I mean -- What's going to happen? What the hell is going _on_ with everyone? And I just am so absolutely kicked out in the cold over it, and you're _right_, I do make things out to be more than they actually are. And I just...Completely don't belong here."

That 'and' was my last, as I wiped furiously at my eyes, feeling Remus sink down on the step next to me.

"Melly and I are...Friends with benefits. I don't love her, we don't have a relationship that's anything more than screwing around when I'm home from school, and it's nothing to get your knickers in a twist over. I guess that you've got some dirt on me now, Lily Evans." I looked up at him, tears threatening to spill from my eyes once again, and this whole situation was suddenly very _strange_ to me.

Remus Lupin, my undeclared worst enemy, sitting next to me with my coat on, a cigarette between his fingers, his face unshaven, and making some sort of peace between us -- Once again.

"I don't quite know what's going on, but I can tell you that things aren't going to get any better." He offered a slight inclination of his head, and then the cigarette was back in his mouth, and silence ensured once more.

"That makes me feel better." I told him, bowing my head against the chilly breeze.

Remus scoffed, and shook his head, leaning back on his elbows, with the cigarette in his mouth, and the ashes on the end of it hanging dangerously from it.

I watched the ciagrette as he spoke, and this twisted part of me could see those ashes falling down onto his bare chest, and yet his quick shout of surprised pain wouldn't be _enough_. I could see him burning, slowly, and his eyes would still be stormy blue...

I blinked myself, harshly, from my demented reverie, and grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, flicking the end, and watching the ashes get caught up in the wind.

"It's not meant to make you feel better," He told me, with raised eyebrows, as I gave the cigarette back. "It's meant to make you stand up straight, you know? You're not going to be able to back down from conflict forever."

Looking out across the street, a shudder ran through my body, staring at the Potter house, where backing down from conflict was a thing cowards did. I was a coward, I thought decidedly, and I wished I could remain that way.

"I'm a coward, though. You, and the other Marauders...You're brave. I don't know about in the sense of physically overcoming things," Little did I know, then, that Remus had overcome one, large physical hindrence, that also bruised him emotionally. "But the way you live your lives everyday...It's with a dash of bravery."

With a smile, he tossed the cigarette down onto the step, trodded on it, and then kicked it off.

"You're such a lovely liar," Remus said, slowly, and the smile still tugging at his lips. "Because you're not a coward. These passed few days have been enough to prove that to anyone. Yes, Lily, including Dani."

He stood, and tugged my coat off, handing it to me, as I stood up, as well.

"I'll be over later today to see Dani before we go back," The humor that lied within his gaze a moment ago was gone, and replaced with something desperate, yet firm.

"I won't tell Sirius about you and James, if you don't tell them about me and Melly." He had lowered his voice, and cast his eyes around, as if someone could overhear. I was actually surprised he picked that out of my previous ramblings.

"Bastard," I muttered, throwing my coat on, and glaring down at our feet. I didn't want to agree to that. I didn't want to say yes to that. I didn't want to have him go turning back on his word, and Sirius finding out yet another thing was kept from him -- And maybe that best friendship that he had with James _would_ suffer further, and to the point of breaking.

"I can't. I can't _trust_ you, Remus." I said, frustrated, and staring him straight in the eye.

"Right back at you, darling." He said with the same frustrated vigor I had given to him. His were eyes wide, and his eyebrows were raised pointedly.

"So, what do we do?" I asked with a sigh, as he began to rub his hands up and down his arms.

"Nothing. I guess we're going to have to let each other decide." He smiled, and then turned back into the house, shutting the door on me without a second glance.

And for some reason I wasn't worried about Remus instigating things again. Maybe because he was warming up to me -- Or maybe because _he_ was worried about me saying something about him and Melly. But the actual reason was shock, on both of our parts -- Shock that James Potter was finally something more to me.

**abc.**

_  
_**"Who's to Say", by Vanessa Carlton.**_  
_

**abc.**

The day wore on much like our lives tended to wear on, and I found myself packing sooner than I had wanted to. I was sighing too much, refusing to look at my 'Head Girl' badge, and wondering why it felt like I had spent a lifetime on Holiday at the Potter's.

We spent the day together -- James, Sirius, Remus, and myself -- being fed sweets by Mrs Potter, playing exploding snap, and talking rather comfortably for a group of teenagers who, without fail, found themselves in a conflict with at least one other.

It was something about knowing that this had been our last Christmas Holiday away from Hogwarts -- That next year's Christmas would be spent in our adult lives, and there'd be no Hogwarts Express to catch, and make things all better.

Melly joined us shortly after 5 o'clock, and her parents were invited over for supper. We had a ridiculously large meal, that all of the women helped in preparing, and pie for dessert.

I marvelled at how well Remus and Melly acted around one another, as if they hardly knew one another, really. Though there were some things I couldn't help but noticing now, such as when they sat next to each other no matter what we were doing, and how Remus's hand would disappear under the table for a second or two at at time, and I tried not to laugh when Remus would meet my stare with a steady glare.

Sirius ate as if it were his last day to do so, and the way the three of them were together...It just didn't change. Remus supplied the sarcastic remarks, at which Sirius glowered at, before physically harming him, if such comments were directed towards him. James reminisced loudly, and seemed to feed off the attention that was given to him, just for a moment, and it was a side of him I wasn't used to seeing. Sirius...acted younger, or less branded -- Something that just wasn't genuine, though everyone seemed to know that. They all saw right through his boisterous laughter, and...Well, I spent much of the day observing the admirable trio.

It was shortly after ten o'clock, when Sirius and Remus declared they needed to head back to the Lupin's to retrieve their things. They told James and I that they'd see us at the train station, and both boys hugged Mrs Potter as a farewell.

Mrs Potter told them both to write, and the dimply grin on Remus's face was absolutely priceless. They said goodbye to Lexi, and then Mr Potter took them into his Study so that they could Floo.

That's when our farewell's started, as well. When Jude came back into the living room, he told us to go gather our things, and the two of us set off towards our rooms, together, silently.

James was looking moody and impulsive, as if any minute he'd hex something, or perhaps he'd decide to drop out of his Hogwarts, and stay home with his family.

**abc.**

The room I had stayed in looked completely bare to me, without my things on the floor, or on the stands. It was just an old-fashioned, well-decorated room that would be empty now. I laid there on the bed for a few moments, waiting for the lump in my throat to pass, and then I lugged my bags from the room, even with a charm on them they were awkward to carry over my shoulders -- Though they were much more convenient than bringing my whole trunk.

James had already gone back downstairs, and was just letting go of his Mum when I arrived in the Entrance hall. I set the bags down, and immediately had Lexi jump into my arms.

"I'll miss you." She said, her blue eyes wide, and sincere.

"Oh, darling," I murmured, hugging her to me. "I'll miss you, too. I promise I'll see you soon, though."

I turned to face James, who was looking at us, with a look on his face that was so beyond anything we had shared today. I put Lexi into his arms, and turned to face Mrs Potter.

Melly and her parents were still there -- I realized how Remus conveniently avoided bidding Melly a goodbye before they left -- and Mrs Potter was avidly avoiding giving me her attention.

"I just want to thank you again, Mrs Potter," I interrupted her quiet conversation with Melly's Mum. "I really, really enjoyed myself. Best Holidays I've had for awhile."

And I meant it.

Mrs Potter smiled at me, and nodded, though didn't say anything. She gave me a quick hug, left me feeling useless once more, but only for a moment, because I had also grown used to her being the way she was around me.

"It was lovely, Lily." She said, and then I was being rushed out of the door by Mr Potter who had taken the bags to the car, and I exchanged a quick goodbye with Melly as I walked down the stairs.

She closed the door, as the three of us walked towards the car, and the last thing I saw in the doorway was Mrs Potter -- Watching us intently, as we left, with her little blue-eyed girl in her arms.

I didn't take my eyes off of the house, as I opened the door, and climbed into the backseat. I didn't take my eyes off of the house as we backed out of the driveway, and started down the street. I did take my eyes away from the house, however, when I realized -- We were leaving.

There was an unpleasant sensation in my stomach, and my eyes were decidedly wide, once again, as I stared out of the window, and at the sky -- Leaving was a strange feeling.

**abc.**

We got to the station fifteen minutes before the train was set to leave, at midnight, and we immediately made our way to Platform 9 3/4, where the scarlet steam engine sat waiting for us.

James took my bags from me, without offering a word, and then lugged both of our things onto the train, leaving me standing next to Jude.

"Well," He turned to look at me, smiling, and he looked so exhausted. "You'll be safe, won't you, Lily?"

Jude's smile faded, and he turned quickly serious, and the look on my face matched his own. I wanted to ask him, so desperately _bad_...

"I will. Promise. Take care, Jude." I stepped foward, and hugged him, and the fact he held on, tightly, for a moment longer -- Well, it worried me, especially when he told me, quietly, not to worry. The fact of the matter, though, was that I had no idea what it was I shouldn't be worrying about.

As if on cue, James rejoined us, and I spotted a frantically waving Sirius, and lethargic looking Remus. I smiled at Jude, tight-lipped, and went over to them, leaving father and son to say their goodbye's.

There didn't seem to be as many kids going back to Hogwarts, as there had been going home, and that just didn't add up. It wasn't just a lapse in judgement on my part, and it wasn't just a few people missing -- There had to be at least twenty people missing. It became obvious as we walked through the train, looking for the compartment our bags were in, and all we found were compartments occupied -- By one or two people, only. Usually compartments were full, even at the Holiday's.

Eventually, we found the compartment that had been marked as our own by our belongings, and of course, there was one boy sitting in it.

"Hey Wormtail." Sirius greeted the boy I was eyeing with a curled lip, just for the fact that I didn't want to sit with someone I didn't know. I looked at the other two, confused, but they smiled at the boy, as well.

Then I realized just who 'Wormtail' was.

Peter Pettigrew, of course.

**abc.**

I wasn't sure why I stayed in the compartment with the reunited Marauders -- I guess, because I hadn't seen Bridget as we walked through the train, and I didn't want to go sit in a compartment by myself, like everyone else was doing.

So, we situated ourselves as comfortably as we could, and they talked together for twenty minues, incessantly.

Remus, Sirius, and Peter sat on one side of the compartment, Sirius taking up more room of the seat than was necessary. James and I sat on the seat across from them, and it was roomy enough for two, so I curled up near the window, and stared out of it.

After those twenty minutes of non-stop talking, and catching up, James excused himself for a moment, saying he needed to go talk to somebody. Nobody questioned him, so I just nodded, as well.

The second James was gone from the compartment, Peter peered out of the door to watch until he was out of hearing distance, and when he was -- He turned to Sirius and Remus, his voice a hushed whisper, and excited sounding.

"I was talking to Prongs earlier, when he brought the bags onto the train," I sat up straighter, and turned to look at him with raised eyebrows, though he wasn't paying attention to me.

"Yeah, what's your point, Pete?" Remus asked, lazily, leaning down in the seat some.

"Well," Peter smirked, as if satisfied with himself over knowing something they didn't seem to know. "It just sounded like his Holidays were...Enjoyable." The two boys seemed to understand something in what he was saying, that I didn't, and all three of them looked at me.

"You know Lily, don't you, Peter?" Remus said to his friend, though didn't take his sudden bright-eyed gaze away from me.

"Yes, I do," He looked down at his hands, and then offered me a quick smile.

"How...How are you, Lil-," Peter began, but Remus cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Come off it, that wasn't my point. My point was -- Miss Evans here spent every waking hour of break at James's house," Peter's eyes widened, and my cheeks flushed. "So, we should just ask_ her _how his Holiday's were, don't you think?"

Peter hurriedly agreed, and I planned on hitting Remus the second we were alone. Sirius seemed to have that plan in mind, too, as he wasn't looking at me any longer, but instead glaring at Remus.

"Do you care to comment, Lil?"

Thankfully James was back in the compartment before I could say anything, and their interrogation of me was quickly forgotten.

When James took his seat next to me again, he reached his hand out and gave my leg a gentle squeeze, though his eyes were focused on his friends, and his friends weren't paying us any attention. I think Sirius was trying to hex Remus, and Peter was laughing a bit too hysterically for my liking.

I went to catch James's hand as he pulled away, but he snatched it back before his friends could offer us glance, and then he was joining in with them.

Watching intently, I looked at Peter. I had always seen him with them, but he never spoke much to me. I don't think he spoke much at all, but particularly not to me. It made you feel a bit more powerful, to intimidate somebody, even somebody as awkward as Peter Pettigrew, yet sitting in this compartment with him, I just felt annoyed at him.

He wasn't a tall boy, nor a very big one. He was a bit chubby, I thought, under his school robes, which he had been wearing since we entered the compartment, and frankly -- I didn't see how he entertwined with the other three. He was nothing like them, really. Peter's thin hair was a dirty-blonde colour, and laid listlessly on his head. He had small, brown eyes, and a rather pointed nose. He was quite gawky looking.

Peter was nervous, too. Even around his _friends_, he'd await their approval on everything he said, and he watched them in somewhat of an awe. Remus seemed annoyed by him frequently, it was obvious James liked to take advantage of the way Peter idealized them, and Sirius? Sirius was good to him, he was genuinely nice to Peter, and that's the only reason I could see that they were friends with him. He was loyal, a bit of a mess, and I supposed came in handy with their elaborate pranks.

But what I really wanted to know is what was so enjoyable about James's Holiday's, and just _what_ he had said to Peter about them. Whatever the case, I was smiling over it.

**abc.**

It was during that train ride back to Hogwarts, that I seemed to remember that I was Head Girl. And James was Head Boy to my Head Girl. It had been an easy position to avoid, ignore, and brush off for the first few months. We gave Prefects their duties, arranged some meetings here and there, took points away, and wore our shiny badges.

But there was a shortage of Prefects on this train ride back to school -- There were none, actually. And, of course, since there was a shortage of Prefects, there was an excess of fighting. Jame and me ended up patrolling the corridors of the train, keeping Slytherin's and Gryffindor's serperated -- Though they normally did that themselves -- as best we could.

We didn't patrol much together throughout the several hours we were on the train, and the one time I did see him, I tried to ask _what_ the hell was going on with everybody, but he just pretended not to hear it, and walked away.

Then, when I did have a chance to return the compartment, Peter mentioned some blasted essay for Transfiguartion, that I _swore_ I had finished, but the more he talked about it, the less familiar it sounded, so I ended up writing it, then, on the train, as it was due to McGonagall the first day back at the castle, even though we didn't have classes.

All in all, it was an absolutely exhausting train ride, and I could have bit someone's head off by the time we arrived at school, at something after 7 in the morning.

I noticed, immediately, the castle was...Sullen, and quiet. The air inside of the castle was almost _dank_, and it was actually cruel to step in from the cold morning, to such a suffocating atmosphere. I had lagged behind the rest of the students, as I had been deserted by the Marauders, couldn't find my wand to perform a charm on my bags, and had to stop to prevent three different fights from occuring.

My bad mood was forgotten as I walked towards the marble staircase, listening to my footsteps echo through the quiet hallway. I set my bags down, and looked inside of the Great Hall, assuming there weren't many people down for breakfast yet. But there _were_. There were some people missing, yes, but the tables were still rather crowded. Every Professor was seated at their table, and everything was so bloody _quiet_. The Marauders had joined the Gryffindor table, and I scanned it quickly, looking for Bridget, but she was missing, as well. Ray wasn't there either, so I just thought they were off somewhere together.

And no one was laughing, and hardly anyone was eating, and everyone was in deep conversation -- I walked away, shaking my head, and went to dig through my bags for my wand, to lighten the load, and I wondered what it was I didn't know. That everyone else knew. Including the Marauder's.

I was too tired to be angry, but after a long sleep I wouldn't be. After I passed a group of terrified looking first or second years, and after I heard so many people crying, and after I overheard the word _'dead'_ six times -- I was already starting to get frustrated, but there was some sinking numbness surrounding me, and it seemed to be obvious to surrounding people, because not a soul tried to speak to me.

Not a soul told me why several hundred students were suddenly falling to pieces.

**abc.**

The familiarity I hoped to feel upon returning to the Common Room just wasn't there. It was empty, and things were carelessly strewn about, and the hearth, which usually had flames leaping about inside of it, was burning low, and maybe it was just my imagination, but I thought I could see my breath as I walked to the dorm.

It was empty, as well, and my eyes danced about, searching for some sort of comfort as I dropped my bags, tossed my coat and shoes off, and collapsed on my bed.

And comfort? There wasn't any.

I fell asleep, slowly, I could feel it. My mind was bursting with scenarios, and thoughts, and for the few seconds between sleep and wakefulness I thought I might just _implode_. But instead, I just heard a voice...It could have been my Mother's, or maybe it was Remus's, but somewhere in the back of my sleep groggy mind...It was James's.

I wasn't a coward, it told me, but that was no comfort -- I wasn't a coward, it repeated...I was a fool. A damn, oblivious fool.

And in a way, that I had yet to discover, it was all James's fault.

**abc.**

Lyrics & authoress's note on my livejournal. Homepage link takes you there. Please read.

**With love, **

**Kaitlyn.**


	20. Morbid Beauty

**Chapter 20  
**"Morbid Beauty"

**abc. **

**"Yellow", by Coldplay.**

**abc.**

This is what living feels like.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and I walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, my Transfiguration essay in my hand, the parchment slightly crumpled, but it didn't really matter to me, because it was horrible. The dorm had been empty when I woke up, and the Common Room was quiet. No one looked up, no one spoke to me, I didn't speak to anyone -- People were surrounding themselves with their friends, and no one else could penetrate the atmosphere around those groups, talking so quietly, so morbidly, so blatantly. It made me think that I should be with my own little group of friends, fretting over what had happened, and I smiled when I realized I did not _have_ a group of friends, let alone actually _know_ what had happened.

This is what it feels like to be alive.

The sky was such a dark grey, that you could almost feel the storm moving in. You could almost see the wet, heavy snow start falling from the clouds before it actually occured. You could almost breathe in the heavy distraction a storm would offer just now. Torches flickered as the wind howled through the castle's corridors, and most everyone was warm in their Common Room's, until dinner time came. My footsteps echoed loudly, obnoxiously, as I made my way to Professor McGonagall's office, and it soon became a steady rythm inside of my head, that grew exceedingly hard to ignore.

This is what it means to be alive.

I knocked on the office door, twice, and it swung open on it's own accord. McGonagall flailed her hand, from where she sat at her desk, and beckoned me inside. I set the essay on her desk, she thanked me, much too immersed in the piles of parchment before her to pay much mind to me, and then I left, heading straight back to Gryffindor Tower. I kept my head down, my arms crossed over my middle, offering a bit of comfort from the gnawing hunger residing in my stomach. I had skipped out on breakfast, slept through lunch, and had to wait an hour until dinner. I was starving for the first time in two weeks, and I realized I was longing for a day of nothing but eating Mrs Potter's baked good's. Or maybe I was just longing for a Mum to take care of me, and make sure I ate all of my meals on time.

This can't be what living feels like, or what it feels like to be alive, or what it means to be alive. It can't be, I decided firmly, tightening my arms around myself, and frowning at my feet. It can't be, because it didn't feel much like being alive right now. I vaguely wondered if I'd turn out to be one of those people who just aren't able to take advantage of life, of living, of _breathing_. I wondered if I was incapable of really _realizing_ what any of those three things actually felt like. Living, I decided, felt much more like suffocating; much more like dying, and I assumed that couldn't be quite right.

I looked up from my feet, pulled myself from my thoughts, and bumped straight into Sirius. The parchment in his hand fell to the ground, and I stared down at it, not offering to pick it up for him. I shifted my weight from my left leg to my right leg, and grinned awkwardly as I watched Sirius bend down to pick up the parchment, which I assumed was his Transfiguration essay. It seemd, for a fleeting moment, that he even had to swallow his pride over a small thing like this.

"Sorry." I choked out, suddenly, running a hand back through my hair.

"It's alright. You can walk with me to McGonagall's office." I felt like slumping down in the middle of the corridor, and crying, because I didn't want to walk back there, but I didn't want to walk to Gryffindor Tower, either.

I turned around with him, walked with him back to McGonagall's office in silence -- I was rather surprised to find I was only a short-distance from it, anyway -- And then we headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

"I don't really want to go back there, do you?" He said, casually as Sirius could, and casting an eye over me, observing me in a way that could only be called delicate.

"No." I replied, hardly before he was done his question, and stopped walking.

Sirius stopped, too, and quirked an eyebrow at me as he turned around.

He would have said it. He was the sort of person to do that. He would have said, "Lily Evans, you're out of your mind right now", but instead he just asked me what was "troubling" me, and I wasn't sure if I answered him or not -- The next thing I recalled, was the feel of the biting wind over my face, as we walked down the stone stairs, leading away from the castle.

It was liberation within itself -- Just to be outside of the castle, and I hadn't even been back for a day. I breathed, deeply, shivering profusely alongside Sirius, and he let me have that moment to breathe. He seemed to understand that I needed that moment to breathe, and I knew that he'd stand there all day with me, if I needed him to. Somewhere, in the back of my mind that wasn't being smothered by James, and the rest of my thoughts -- I wondered why it couldn't still be him. But then, really -- Had it ever actually _been_ him.

"Lily."

It was snowing. It had been snowing since we came out, but it was a quiet sort of snow. Feather-light flakes floating down to the ground, and hardly adding up to anything. A few snowflakes clung to my eyelashes before metling, the water sliding down my cheeks. As the snow began to fall faster, it became almost blinding to watch it, and a perpetual calm settled around us. It was a quiet, quiet snow.

"Lily." His voice broke into my thoughts again, but this time I didn't ignore him, as I had, accidentally, the last time. I looked over at him, waiting for him to continue, though not really wanting him to.

Sirius's dark hair was becoming rather shaggy, I noticed, as he shook it from his eyes. There was an almost graceful waviness to his hair, and it fell in place with such ease. He wore a charcoal-grey sweater, and a pair of nice, dark jeans. He was a lovely contrast against the white of everything around us, and there was an air of nostalgia to him. His eyes danced around lazily, observing the world as if it were there for him only, and when he looked back to me, I realized his eyes were like ice. A terribly cold shade of grey, with the slighest offering of blue in them -- They were piercing, and fathomless, and within them lay everything Sirius Black was.

"_Lily_," His voice had gone from worried, and delicate to rather annoyed. "Would you listen to me, eh?" My eyes were watering, as I hadn't blinked for a few moments, and my eyelids fluttered about as I diverted my stare away from him.

"I'm sorry." I told him, and he tugged a bit of lint off of his shirt before looking back to me.

"I just asked you, three times, what's going on in that head of your's?" It was a question that someone should have asked him, but nobody thought to.

Nothing, I thought rather than said. _Not a thing. _There were just whispers of deaths, and flames so blue, and the world coming to an end, a hundred different times. _There was nothing going on in this head of mine_, I thought -- still not speaking -- For in that moment, all of my thoughts were borrowed from someone far more cynical. Far more insane.

, I thought rather than said. There were just whispers of deaths, and flames so blue, and the world coming to an end, a hundred different times. , I thought -- still not speaking -- For in that moment, all of my thoughts were borrowed from someone far more cynical. Far more insane. 

"What's happened, Sirius?" I asked him, quietly, feeling the wind pick up, and it blew straight through the clothes I wore, straight through my skin, and it chilled me to the very bone, as he locked his icy depths on me.

There was silence, and he stared at me, the look on his face changing from determined to positively torn. He was more amazing, more _good_ than he let himself believe.

"You've got to ask James that one, Lily."

I took a deep breath, pursing my lips, and exhaled through my nose, my nostrils flaring, unattractively.

"Has someone died, Sirius?"

He was somehow standing directly in front of me, leaning over me a bit, seeming taller than he actually was. The wind howled, hollowy, and his warm fingers came down onto my arm, and I could feel their warmth, as he gripped my upper arm tightly, through my shirt.

His nod confirmed what overheard conversations had previously confirmed.

"Someone's died, Lily." His voice soft, yet rather hoarse, and as he hunched his shoulders up, I realized that he was blocking me from the biting wind, because the last thing I needed was to become numb.

"Who?" I bemoaned before I could stop myself, and his hand slid up and down my arm quickly, a mesmerising pattern. Comfort, comfort, comfort...

He didn't say anything, just bent until his chin rested atop my head for a quick second, and then he was leading us back towards the castle, the wind blowing harder, and the snow falling heavier.

I had to talk to James, whether he talked to me or not.

The inital determination to talk to James faded swiftly, however, as the two of us walked back to the castle, the smell of a warm meal wafting through the air in the entrance hall. Food took priority over talking to James, as I'd have to _find_ him first, and he did a rather good job of not being found when he didn't want to be.

"You coming?" I asked Sirius, as I turned towards the Great Hall, whereas he kept walking towards the staircase.

"I've got some things to take care of. You go on, Green Eyes." He quirked an eyebrow at me, and smiled with all of the blasé wonderment in the world.

He was the only person in the whole world who was like that. I watched him climb the staircase, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with some unknown, fleeting feeling. I think it was appreciation.

I walked through the Great Hall, going to take a seat at the end of the Gryffindor table.Everything was quiet, and sad, and classes started tomorrow, and it seemed as if a quarter of the student population was still missing. And somebody was dead.

It was, now, a fact. It was a solid truth that someone had died -- One I couldn't quite get my head around.

**abc.**

That evening, I sat in the Common Room, at Sirius's secure side, as he poured over some unfinished homework, and I read a book. I didn't fail to tell him what I thought of being left alone at dinner. No, it would have been better if I was actually _alone_.

But instead I endured dinner with Remus and Peter. If I hadn't been so damned hungry, I would have left, but I chose to sit through Remus's snide comments, and Peter's _laughter_. Neither of which I understood. I thought Remus was making the comments to have Peter laugh, but everytime Peter laughed Remus asked him why he was such a pansy, and then Peter would laugh because he was uncomfortable, and it was easily the most awkward meal of my life.

Sirius apologized, invited me to sit with him while he did his work, and I did so without even question of why he wasn't with the other three.

At around 8 o'clock Sirius began glancing towards the grandfather's clock that stood in the Common Room. Every five minutes until half past eight he would look up, look towards the portrait hole, and then back to his work. When the clock came to 8:30, though, he packed his things up, and watched the potrait hole for a few seconds, until in came Peter.

Peter didn't come over to us, just stood near the opening for a minute, before leaving. It was supposed to be a singal of some sort for Sirius, and he took it, leaping up immediately, stowing his bookbag next to me.

"You'll take this to the dorm for me, won't you," He smiled when I nodded, already beginning to walk away. "I'll see you later, Lily."

Stretching, I shut the book I had been reading -- the one James gave me for Christmas -- and looked around the full room. Bridget was still missing. People were still sad. Someone was was still dead.

And I still knew where James's bed was. I had got tired of sitting there in the common room with no one to talk to, and watching Jada sit in a corner with some random boy, and perhaps she was the only other people who was as oblivious as me, though she was just _born_ that way.

The last time I was in the dorm, it was dark, cold, and I hadn't noticed those pictures on James's nightstand...

I stood next to it, Sirius's bookbag dropped somewhere in the middle of the room, and picked up a picture of someone who looked vaguely familiar.

She was pretty. Wholesome. Smiling. She had an alabaster skin tone, and freckles brushed along her cheekbones, and nose. Her hair was a pretty strawberry-blonde and ran down her back in sleek, straight layers. And her eyes were the most vibrant colour blue --

"Oh." I murmured, realizing just who the petite girl was, looking so awkward in her dark Hogwarts uniform, yet so much like a woman.

I peered closer at the picture, that didn't appear to be magical -- Someone had taken the picture at bit of an angle, as if they were looking up at her from a slant, perhaps near the lake. The sun was in the background, she was smiling with ease, and it looked as if the wind had blown her hair around.

Jocelyn. It was Jocelyn. James's first non-love. His first almost-love. She was the one who got away, I thought, and she was _married_ on the 1st of January. I could hardly believe James was with her just a few months ago. She _was_ his opposite, I had remembered him telling me that. She was dainty, and elegant; Pretty, and fragile. This warmth, this innocence just radiated about her, and I did not compare myself to her, as I had often compared myself to Melly. I just looked at the picture, of the beautiful girl who James didn't love, and I wondered -- Hell, if he couldn't love her, who _could_ he fall in love with?

I fell asleep waiting for James. I laid in his bed, underneath both of his comforters, and sheet. Having tugged off the sweater I wore, I was left in a white tank top, and my jeans that I hadn't yet bothered to change out of. I was exhausted and classes hadn't even _started_ yet. I hated what I did to myself. I hated how I was stressed out before I even had a chance to be. It wasn't a healthy sort of way to live.

**abc.**

It was ten o'clock when I woke up, and there were tingling sensations in my right arm, as if I had laid on it, and it had fell asleep, too. Groaning, I rolled over, shaking my arm the best I could beneath the covers, and smacked my dry lips together, before licking them.

"Waiting for somebody, Lily?" Part of me expected it to be Remus, and another hoped it would be Sirius. Even a far off part of me wondered if it would be Peter Pettigrew to discover me in James's bed this time.

But it was the one person I hadn't counted on talking to that night. The one person I had came here to talk to, but the intentions of doing so, the courage to do so had ebbed away slowly, until I was left with none. It was James, standing there with the hangings pulled back, looking down at me, rather bemused.

"You, of course." I told him through a yawn, and everything about him just then was _raw_, and genuine. It was a rather emotional sight, to see him. He smiled, his lovely lips staying pressed together, and he ran a hand through his hair, while I just wanted to reach up and capture that bit of James that seemed to be left.

"You look morbid." I said, as the faint smile left his lips, and permanent weariness settled in amongst his features.

"You look beautiful." He quipped with a cheeky grin, while leaning down to kiss my cheek.

It was morbid beauty, and had we not been the definition of it, we would have been completely engrossed in it. Fascinated by it. Contradictions and paradoxes.

Jocelyn has vibrant blue eyes, I thought as James positively _threw_ himself down onto the bed next to me, but I've got green ones**. **

abc.

**"Green Eyes", by Coldplay. **

**abc_.  
_**  
For a moment, that fell much too short, there was silence, and I listened to his heavy breathing, while he laid face-down on the bed. Before I could speak, before I could let the word "dead" fall from my lips again, he was wrenching the covers out of my grip -- as I held the blankets tight against me -- and pulling them away from my body, tossing them down to the foot of the bed.

He propped himself up with his right hand and looked down at me, with an easy, yet penetrating stare. It was scrutinizing, warm, and nothing that I needed just then. Goosebumps protruded along my skin as his gaze swept over me, and he brushed his hand against my bare arm. It was the stare, though, that caused those goosebumps -- I felt the same way everytime he looked at me, a way I couldn't quite describe.

"James." I said, as he ran his hand up my arm, resting it on my shoulder. Through the dark of the room, and the convulsive shudders running through my body, I felt his eyes lock with my own, and his lips tugged up in what was a sad smile.

He said nothing, and I just _watched_ him as if I was incapable of doing anything else. Perhaps I was incapable, though, when he was like this. Then -- in half a second -- he had slid his hand, not preoccupied with holding himself up, beneath the strap of my bra, and the strap of my tank top, pulled both of them down from my shoulder, and left them hanging against my upper arm.

I thought, maybe, I had gasped when he did it, but my mouth was shut, and my breathing was regular, and it was if this was the most natural thing in the world. Somewhere in the back of my mind I couldn't understand, I couldn't _believe _that this was James Potter. Not tonight, not like this.

James lowered himself back onto the bed, and the upper half of his body covered my own. His mouth followed a trail that would become familiar to him, as he brushed it against my arm, trailing it up, and finally he pressed his lips against my exposed shoulder. It was the warmest, most dizzying feeling I had ever experienced, as he opened his mouth against the skin, and lightly tasted it.

He pulled his head up after a moment, and looked at me, his lazy, hazel eyes flickering in the candle-light of the room. They weren't necessarily _lacking_ anything -- They were still so very alight, still penetrating, and infinite -- No, there was something more to them. Something a bit off, something a bit damaged -- A little bit of hurt.

The second I opened my mouth to speak, he turned his face away. Shifting, he pushed me further into the bed, resting on top of me, and buried his face in my neck.

I sighed, as he mumbled in a satisfied sort of way, breathing warmly against my neck. I wondered if maybe I should cry. If maybe I should fall apart and break down. I didn't know this side of him as well as I would've liked. I didn't know James to be so close, intimate, and lovely. I decided I'd never tire of him being any of those three things.

"James," I finally found myself whispering to him, and it was his turn to sigh. He didn't say anything, however, and something quite unsettling lingered in the air, until I spoke again.

"James, I need you to tell me who died."

For a moment, his breathing was constricted, and I heard him swallow hard a few times, before I could feel his breath on my skin again; His chest rising and falling, quickly, against me.

"Why," He croaked out, his face pressed hard into my neck, his lips touching it as he spoke. I thought maybe I saw stars. Or Angels. I saw Angels that night.

"Why do you _need_ to know? Why do you need to know something like that? It's destruction, it's suicide, it's _bloody awful_, yet you _need_ to know? You don't _need_ to know, Lily. You barely even _want_ to know, but you're so terribly _spiked_ with curiousity..." I did not utter a single word, a single sound, his lips on my skin, tremors running through my body, the cold of the night, of this room finally getting to me -- Along with nerves.

Then, as if I were in a daze, I heard him say it, his voice low, and faroff -- His face no longer buried in my neck.

"Jocelyn."

I think that's when I started crying. I didn't think I was crying then, but thinking back now -- I was. I was crying, maybe because he needed someone to cry for him -- But mostly because I needed someone to cry for me.

And he never once asked me to stop**. **

abc.

There was a dull buzz to the room when I woke. A persistently low, dull buzz. My eyes struggled open, flitting this way and that, seeing nothing but the dark of the room. The buzz, I decided, was in my head -- The room was quiet, too quiet, achingly quiet.

I groaned, rubbing my sore eyes, and turned over, facing the boy I had almost forgot about.

He even looked solemn in his sleep. His eyes almost squeezed shut, and the whole form of his body was tense. I vaguely remembered laying there next to him, crying, for a brief amount of time, and then his breathing had slowed into a melodic rythm, and I followed suit, closing my eyes, and sleeping next to him. I wondered if he was going to be silent like that from now on.

My eyelashes were clumped together, sooty with mascara, and instead of waking him up, I just wiped beneath my eyes again and again, trying to remove any stray bits of black.

For a moment, I pictured myself removing stray bits of black from him. Stray bits of black that stained his very core, stray bits of black that were put there, unknowingly, by a girl he had given up six months ago. I wondered if he she would still be alive and well if he had only loved her. If she had only loved him. With a smile, with some completely _horrid_ smile, I told myself that love really couldn't save anything. But I was just bitter. It was just something I wanted.

With a sigh, I sat up, taking a hair tie off of my wrist, and putting my hair up. I looked down at James, and a pang of guilt, of empathy, of absolute affection wracked through my body. I knew that I needed to leave, that I couldn't find myself in his bed night after night. The two of us needed a dose of reality, that we had been deprived of for all of the Holiday's. It wasn't just me and him anymore.

But I was selfish, and I was needy, and I was certain that he'd be alright. I was certain that he'd get up the next morning, and be James Potter, with an air of finality.

It was 3:30 in the morning. We had just fell asleep, James had just left it hanging -- He was so at odds, so hurt, I decided. Jocelyn was dead, and I wasn't quite sure why I had cried. It had been there for days, it had been building slowly -- There was an air sadness around me.

I reached a hand out towards his forehead, brushing some silky hairs from off of it, and there was a long minute in which I imagined him depressed. Quiet, reserved, moody -- God, everything he had been. Everything he _was_, still, somewhere in there. I didn't want, I didn't _need_ that James. I needed the James that I had, just days before, held so very tightly in my grasp.

But maybe he'd need me now**. **

abc.

"Are you leaving, or no?" James had woke up. He had turned over onto his back, though his eyes were still closed, and his voice was rather hoarse.

I had been sitting up for a few minutes, staring out through the gap in the hangings, at the bed directly across from James's. I wondered who's it was. Who's quiet breathing I could just barely hear, who's hangings weren't _completely_ shut...

"Sirius' bed." James told me, suspecting my thoughts, and then he tugged the hangings shut.

"They can't hear us if the hangings are shut, you know, and we can't hear them," I nodded, familiar with the charm put on the beds. The charm was placed on the beds so you wouldn't have to contend with your room mate's snoring, but it was quite the convenient thing for 7th years who just didn't stay in their own dorms.

"Are you implying something, Mr Potter?" I asked him, raising my eyebrows as he snaked an arm around my waist, trailing his hand up and down my side.

"Silly girl," He said, and it sounded like he may have been smiling. "I'm much more of a gentleman than that. I was just thinking it best if certain dorm mate's of mine didn't know a certain girl was in my bed."

I nodded, whether he could see it or not, and we stayed quiet for a few minutes.

"I don't want you to leave tonight, alright? There's no point in it, now. Just stay."

It broke my heart a bit to hear him talk like that, with some casual desperation, but he wanted me to stay, and that felt rather nice to hear.

"I can't, though," I told him, feeling his fingers dance beneath the hem of my shirt. "The other girls will know I was up to something..."

"We're Head Girl and Boy, it's nobody's business if we're in our own beds or not!" He hissed to me, turning over onto his side, looking up at me.

"James, us being the Heads is more of a reason for me to leave than it is for me to stay. We're supposed to, you know, set an example." At this he scoffed, and took his arm from around me, resting it on the bed instead.

Sighing gently, I leaned down, and kissed him on the crown of his head.

"I love those lips," He murmured, his eyes shut once again. I shook my head, saying something about needing a bit more experience with them before he could say that.

"And these legs," He interrupted, pulling the covers away from my lower body, and resting one of his hands on my leg nearest him, just above the knee. "I love these legs."

"You're something devilish." I told him, as he pulled me down, abruptly, and kissed the very corner of my mouth.

The smile that played over his face just wasn't nearly as honest as he tried to make it. I felt guilty, taking this from him as he offered it. These light-hearted moments, wrapped up in some depressed mess. It wasn't who he should've been that night -- Yet I loved it so much.

His face was very near mine, I realized, and his eyes were very _dazzling_.

"You look like you just stopped crying a minute ago," James said, quietly. It was funny how night just offered that sort of impression. Even if nobody could hear us, we spoke near a whisper -- It fit the atmosphere. "Honest, your cheeks are all stained..."

A rough thumb brushed one of my cheeks, and I exhaled, heavily, shutting my eyes, willing myself to not go back to sleep.

"You let me cry." I told him, harsher than I had intended to. I didn't know what I meant, I didn't know how I had expected him to _stop _me...I suppose I just thought maybe he'd _ask _me to.

I felt him nod.

"The first time I made her cry," He paused for a moment, letting me realize he meant Jocelyn, and letting me realize he wasn't about to say her name.

"I expected it to be heart-breaking, and I thought I'd feel bloody horrible, but...It was strange. It was a bit of a relief to see her cry -- To know she had those sort of emotions. She was very good at hiding what she was actually thinking, and each time I made her cry, I _knew_ that she was thinking something, that she was, really, hurting. Everytime after that -- I just let her cry. Asking a woman to stop crying makes them cry harder, and I only made that mistake once," He cleared his throat, and I quirked my lips, sadly, at him.

"You make it sound like you made her cry all of the time," James looked me right in the eye.

"I did. She didn't like much I had to say. I could be a bit impulsive," With a weary sigh he corrected himself. "I _can_ be a bit impulsive."

There was an incredibly awkward silence, and then he was saying goodnight.

"I'll see you in the morning, Lily." Was his goodnight, accompanied by a large yawn.

A sudden romantic part of me wondered if he'd kiss me again, but I scrambled from the bed far too fast to allow that to happen, stopping only to pick my sweater up off the floor, and I swore I saw the hangings -- on a bed that wasn't James's -- flutter shut...

**abc.  
**_  
_**"Marching Bands of Manhattan", by Death Cab for Cutie. **

**abc. **

I sat there, late that afternoon, waiting for dinner time to come. After the Holiday's, and the excessive eating you did -- It felt strange to actually be _starving_. I felt all I did was run around all day. From class to class, from meal to meal, wondering if things were going to start sinking in soon.

For the first couple of classes everyone just stared blankly at the Professor, realizing we'd have to start taking their threats with the work getting harder, seriously soon. We were on the downside of 7th year. This was, really, the beginning of the end, and before we could actually _learn _anything we had to let _that_ monumental fact break the surface.

It was terrifying.

My nerves seemed to be on end already. I was flustered and furious throughout much of the day, through all of my classes except for Charms, which still came easily. I had taken a brief interest in Transfiguration, and I thought it was just McGonagall's stern ways that made me dread it. Despite excelling in both of those classes, I still wasn't any further in knowing what I wanted to do in my life.

I could see myself married before I was nineteen, pregnant by twenty, and widowed by twenty-two. It's the way the world seemed to be working lately, and it was kind of worrysome -- How I was just settling with those ideas; accepting them.

Books laid on the table before me, homework was calling my name, yet I was only concerned of two things -- Food and James Potter.

He didn't talk much throughout the day, though nobody really did, nobody really had anything to say, except to voice depression about being back in classes. He looked terrible, which was strange to me at first, because I had been with him just a few hours previous. But then I realized I hadn't actually _seen_ him, the dorm being so dark, and _this_ is what he had looked like the whole time he was being that _affectionate_ mess.

He was unshaven this morning, and pale. Dark circles beneath his eyes, and his hair was mussed terribly. His tie was crooked, his shirt wrinkled, and he scuffed his shoes along the floor as he walked. Every time either of us, James or me, yawned Remus would cast a curious look in our direction, and I decided that he knew I had been there last night. I had just started to let it bother me, when an image of Remus and Melly ran through my mind, and I smiled smugly, blessing blackmail whole-heartedly.

Sitting there, late in the afternoon, I couldn't quite forget that morning, when a 7th year girl, from Hufflepuff nonetheless, bounded over to the Gryffindor table, and stood behind James.

Her name was Penelope, and she had blonde hair pulled away from her face, in pigtails. She was short and curvy, had a button nose, and lovely, chocolate brown eyes. She could have been cute if her voice hadn't been so sickeningly sweet.

"Hullo James," She greeted, too plesantly, her hands clasped in front of her, the white uniform shirt she wore enhancing her bust, unattractively.

With a barely supressed groan, James turned 'round to greet Penelope with a small smile, and a 'good morning'. She began talking, then, rambling almost, about how sorry people were, and how she "wished, wished, wished" she could do something to make him feel better. I was sitting next to him, watching the expression on his face out of the corner of my eye. She was talking about Jocelyn, and he seemed perplexed as to _why_.

"We...weren't together." He interrupted, uncertainly, and Penelope nodded.

"I know, but you two were just _so _in love," Sirius snorted ungracefully at this. I recalled, for a moment, James mentioning Sirius not liking Jocelyn. I wondered if he'd like her now, if he'd be respectful now -- That she was dead. "And I'm sure you're still hurt, and I am here for you if,-"

"Penelope, let me say this first, and once I say this, if you feel like you should continue -- Then by all means. But _first_, you should know that this could be a waste of your time, because I already have a girlfriend."

James's voice was low as he told her, eyebrows raised pointedly -- His friends no longer listening. I heard him, though, and I choked on my scrambled eggs.

"Oh, well," She struggled to quickly regain composure, as her face immediately fell at his statement.

"That's not what I was over here for, I just wanted to tell you that I'm here for you," I vaguely found myself wondering if she had ever spoke a word to him before this morning.

"See you, James." She said, walking off, with a wave.

He said nothing, turning back towards his breakfast, and taking a drink of his orange juice.

I stared at him, the other three Marauders pouring over a Morning Prophet, and talking amongst themselves. Maybe it was a stupid question, an incredibly ignorant question, a question that could have him changing his mind, or maybe _realizing_ what he had just said -- It came from my mouth before I could think of a more eloquent way to ask it, and it just hung there between us, for what could have been an eternity.

"You have a girlfriend?"

He buttered his toast, and slathered strawberry jam on it. He took a bite, chewed it slowly, and wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin. Then he looked at me, with those hazel-green orbs narrowed slightly, as if he were delightfully puzzeled.

"Well, what would you like me to refer to you as?"

I gaped at him, feeling an odd soaring sensation in my stomach, and also fighting the feeling to slap him. I wanted to kiss him, after I slapped him, and I wanted to bloody well tell him that "girlfriend" was fine with me.

But it wasn't fine with me. Our relationship was so incomplete, and flawed, and we had not even learned to tell each other the _truth_ yet, let alone _make a commitment_ to one another.

"Not...I'm not your girlfriend." He took it in stride, the expression on his face reamining as nonchalant as it possibly could, despite the obvious distress in his features.

"If that's the case you won't mind if I go tell Penelope I changed my mind?" James asked, and I found myself glaring at him.

"Yes, I would mind, but you're not about to _manipulate_ me,-"

He sighed, loudly, took my plate, and put more scrambled eggs onto it, sprinkled salt over them, and put the plate back in front of me.

"Breakfast isn't the best place to be discussing this, mmm? Eat up."

**abc.**

I was on my way back from dinner, at something after 6, and had stopped a couple of corridors away from Gryffindor Tower, to admire a portrait. I had ate alone, and quickly, and was now just standing there, smiling at a painting of a vase of flowers.I could only imagine that I looked relatively insane as Carter -- Jada's on-again, off-again boyfriend, who was also a 7th year Gryffindor -- approached me, coming from the direction I was going in.

Jada, she was someone I had easily forgot about. It did something to my confidence, to my pride to realize that -- The fact that I had, quickly, let got of that battered friendship. I realized I deserved something better, something _real_, and had found myself in the grasp of the Marauders. Sometimes I still have to think about how it really happened.

Before he had even spoke a word, I was thinking about asking him if he had finally gotten rid of Jada, for good. He was far too good for her, and treated her far too well. He came from a good family, was rather charming, though bashful, had a headful of curly, brown hair and a toothy smile.

There was something about Carter's toothy smile this evening, though, that had me frowning curiously at him. It was a cautious, toothy smile. He was still dressed in his uniform, as was I. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trousers, and his uniform shirt was untucked. I could almost taste it wafting towards me -- Something bitter, something terrible.

"'Lo Lily." He spoke in his low voice, a bit of a smile still tugging at his lips.

"Hi Carter," I replied, grinning, and moving away from the portrait, to stand in front of him, in the middle of the corridor. "How are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good," He said, distractedly, running his fingers through his hair, taking it back from his forehead. "I just...I was just on my way to Dinner, and I was just _wondering_ if you even knew..."

I raised my eyebrows as he trailed off, and my curious frown had returned.

"Well, why don't you tell me, and we'll find out." I suggested, causually, and I found myself holding my breath as he looked down at his feet, shuffling them awkwardly.

"Bridget's boyfriend...Ray? You knew him, yeah?" I nodded and he continued.

"Over the Holidays there just were...Attacks, I guess you could say. New Year's Eve, there were a bunch of attacks on Auror's. Ray, well. Lily, Ray was killed. I mean, several other people were, too, but he was the only one that I knew personally."

I stared at him, as he looked back up from the floor, and he winced slightly.

"You didn't know, did you?" He asked, sounding as if he felt terrible.

"No, I," I looked away from him, my eyes fluttering around, trying to find something stable to focus my gaze on. The whole world seemed to be spinning a bit.

"I didn't know, actually. I knew that...Someone had died, I didn't know Ray had died, or there were attacks," I rambled on, my hand raking back through my hair, my cheeks flushing slightly.

"I've been a bit oblivious then, haven't I?"

Carter swallowed hard, and he looked a bit pale.

"Honestly, I'm sorry for being the one to tell you, but I just felt it pretty bad if the Head Girl didn't even know." I nodded, thanked him for telling me, and he hurried off to Dinner, as I dashed off towards Gryffindor Tower, almost seeing red. It was a bit easier to be angry right now, rather than actually deal with what he had just told me.

And James Potter's voice was ringing in my head, saying only _Jocelyn_ -- Conveniently forgetting to mention _attacks_.

**abc.**

It had to have been ten minutes of pacing up and down the length of the corridor just outside the potrait of the Fat Lady -- She would not let me in. Apparently, during the short amount of time I had been at Dinner, the password had been changed. I explained to her that I was the _Head Girl_, and that she _had_ to let me in because I had to find James Potter and _throttle him_ -- Though I did leave the last bit out.

I didn't have my badge on me, though, and _of course_ the Fat Lady was having doubts that I sincerely was the Head Girl. So, I paced, waiting for the damn potrait hole to open, liable to bite the head off of the first person to come through it.

Ironic that it was Remus. Wearing his trademark faded jeans, and snug tshirt, despite the chilliness of the air in the castle. I could not quite understand him.

He, effectively, ignored me, going to walk right by me, with his chin stuck out a bit.

"Where is he?" I called to Remus, as he was a few steps away from me.

There was a moment of hesitation before he stopped in his tracks, sighed, and turned to face me.

"Where is _who_, Lily?" He asked, expressing the common exasperation he had for me, shoving his hands in his pockets, and I absolutely could _not_ stand the images that flashed through my mind everytime I saw him. Unbuttoned jeans, no shirt, and the neighbour girl.

"Where is _James_, Remus." I frowned at him, as he smiled at me from across the hall, a shrewd look playing over his features.

For a second, I wasn't hearing his voice full of dry wit, and wry humor. I was trying to imagine Remus Lupin as a compassionate sort of being, but it was one of the most impossible things I had ever attempted. Nothing about him fit, nothing about his life seemed to make sense -- He had these three friends who would likely sacrifice their _lives_ for him, and he for each of them, and he had these amazing marks, and this easy sophistication --

Yet he was one of the most horrible people I had ever met. When I thought of Remus Lupin, I thought of my Mum, and I couldn't find a way to make that a good thing. Not that Remus was a lot like my Mum; Not that she was as witty and sharp as him, but both of them drained me of all rational thought, and both of them left me with some sort of regret. I decided both of them were my challenges, both of them _dared_ me to be imperfect, and to fail, and make everyone miserable like they thought me to be -- Sometimes I thought I was a bit in love with all of that, though.

"Flashbacks of last night, hmm?" Remus's voice cracked through my thoughts, and I found myself standing quite near him on the other side of the corridor.

Quick as lightning it came back to me, and I was laughing maniacally, stepping closer to him again.

"You're not even going to go there, are you, Remus? I think _now_ would be a _particularly_ bad time to bring up Miss Melly, and if you even _think _of telling Sirius _or _Peter _or_ anybody that I was in the dorm last night, I will find a few _needless_ details to add to the story of your little _rendezvous_, and maybe your friends will _finally_ see the side of you that _I'm_ always stuck seeing." I had pushed him, his back against the stone wall. Though he could have easily left -- He stayed there, smiling at me.

"Someday, do you find, you might just...Snap, Lily?" Remus murmured, and I pushed him hard again, satisfied with the groan of discomfort he uttered.

"Where is James, Remus?" I asked, once again, more desperately than I would have liked.

Both of my hands were pushed against his shoulders, pinning him there, and he reached one of his own hands up to my wrist, and gripped it, painfully.

"He's leaving," He spat at me, squeezing so tightly that I pulled away from him, gasping and staring at the red skin on my wrist. "He's leaving so he'll be there for her funeral tomorrow. He's outside waiting for his _bloody_ carriage, Evans, and if you _ever_,-"

I didn't hear the end of his threat, as I had spun around, and took off down the corridor, my footsteps echoing loudly in my ears.

Or maybe it was my heart-beat.

**abc. **

"Straw Dog", by Something Corporate.

**abc.**

The evening was quickly darkening, offering the lovely impression of serenity. There was a light blue glow to the sky, as the sun had just finished it's sinking, and when you looked over the horizon you could see the trees of the Forbidden Forest stretching, outlined black, into the lighter blue of the sky.  
Stars shone, adordingly, down on the grounds, and the moon was seemingly missing tonight.Smoke streamed out from the chimney of Hagrid's cabin, slowly but steadily, and lights glowed warmly from his windows. Looking back up to the castle, you could see faint light filtering down from some of the windows, but for some reason being out here was more comforting than being in there.

It was a biting sort of cold that night. A cold that freezes absolutely everything, even the wind, and there is nothing but still and quiet. It's the slightest bit eerie, the slightest bit overwhelming -- But it's welcome all the same.

My breath floated from my mouth, at a lethargic pace, almost looking as if it were going to stop, and hang right in front of me. It was whiter than it would have been if the night hadn't been so cold, but it was just indication at how bloody cold it was.

"Ahh." I exhaled, walking along the path, my eyes straining to see James.

Goosebumps covered my skin in an instant as I shivered, and they almost ached. I was in my school blouse and skirt, still, and hadn't even my robes on to keep me warm. I mumbled beneath my breath, cursing James Potter for the inconvenience that I decided he was, but then my thoughts shouted, defiantly -- _You know you'd freeze to death for him_.

I stopped in my tracks, as I spotted him -- Or rather the jagged outline of him against the night, and I just _assumed_ it was him. I stopped, though, because it was a bit of a striking sight. It was quite as if he had been standing there the whole time, on the gravel drive the carriages came along, but I had failed to see him. Then I wondered if maybe he just appeared there, now. If he were that magical.

His back was turned to me, and I could think of nothing but of how angry I was with him, as I walked towards him. How angry I was with him for...I wasn't sure. For everything, truth be told. For calling me his girlfriend, for lying to me, for letting me live in this false sense of security the whole time I was at his house during the Holiday's. I was angry with him for appearing so safe, and broad, and wonderful to me -- For being like _coming home_ to me -- and then ripping that away from me, because his ex-girlfriend was dead and he hadn't the balls to tell me about it. He had lied to me, something I had done to him time and time again -- Yet he was suddenly something else to me. I couldn't place it. I didn't know. I thought maybe he was a bit of a coward, but decided, split second, he may just have been the very definition of bravery.

I thought of Sirius as I approached James -- or maybe I wasn't approaching him at all. Perhaps I was standing still, and it was the world that was spinning fast -- and how good he was. He was so good, and so careful, and nothing like he was in the beginning. He was vunerable. He was a letdown, but he was incredible at being one, and I wished -- so very deeply -- that he would fall in love some day. It sounded foolish, ridiculous -- Because he was Sirius Black, and you just associate him with love. But...Not so much love as love _affairs_. You associate him with passionate affairs, and I didn't think anybody -- Not James, not Remus, not Peter, not _anybody_ -- I didn't think anybody thought he'd find love. He was one of those people who seemed above love and commitments -- Like he didn't need it. It felt kind of nice to be the one to know that he _did_.

Clearing my throat, three times before my voice worked properly, I shouted to him.

"So, you were just going to leave?"

My voice, hoarse as it was, shaking as it was -- It was loud in this quiet twilight, and he turned around, quickly, to look at me.

The dim lights from the castle windows reflected lively in his glasses, and for a moment his eyes were dancing, and he was every bit as vibrant and alive as he had always been -- I was afraid he'd lose that.

"For a day," He called back, sounding uncertain. "I'll be back Saturday."

I didn't say another word to him, just kept walking and eventually I found myself standing near enough to see the furrow between his eyebrows.

His face was smooth, unlike earlier that morning. The jeans he wore were dark, and beneath his grey mixed, tweed coat was a black sweater, and sticking out of his coat, wrapped proudly around his neck was a red and gold scarf. There was a height to him that night that I swore had just been added in recent hours. He never seemed that tall before, and now he was towering over me as if he had the right to do so. He blended in easily with the becoming night, yet stood out from it vividly. He was somehow darker than the sky, than the black-shadowed grounds around us -- He was darker, and jagged, but you could not miss him. He was so very there.

When James saw I was without a coat he dashingly -- needlessly -- came to the rescue, tearing his own off of him faster than I could imagine, and thrusting it into my arms.

"Bloody mad, woman!" He exclaimed, watching me carefully until I put the still-warm coat on, and carefully met his stare.

"What are you doing out here, Lily? What's wrong?" My body was quivering, uncontrollably, and I decided it was nerves instead of cold. I wasn't able to say anything for a long, long while, and we just stood, him staring at me with something that didn't really stop my shaking.

"You...When you leave for a funeral, even if it's for a day, you...You have to tell me, James," I spoke thickly, my voice deep, and my nose stinging from the harsh, cold air. "You can't just _leave_ when things are like they are. You can't _not_ tell me. You...You could have told me. Just like...Just like you could have told me about Ray, and about the attacks, and,-"

"Oh no," He muttered, a hand going to his face, and he rubbed his eyes, beneath his glasses, tiredly. "Who told you?"

"It doesn't _matter_ who told me, because it wasn't _you_! Am I the only one who thinks this is significant?" I said, my voice squeaking inelegantly, and his frustrated sigh was not lost on me.

I could have been waiting for him to explain. To say something of what he had concealed from me, to offer some sort of apologie, but there was nothing, and we stood, silently, again. It suited us well -- It suited the night.

It was refreshing, breathtaking, eye-widening when a slight, almost undetectable, breeze picked up. It offered something more than it actually offered. It was just a cool breeze on a frigid night -- But there was redemption, and dignity, and composure somehow embedded in that brief wind. It cooled my burning cheeks, and my hair was left strewn about, the only evidence that it had ever been there.

"Brush that hair from your eyes, darling," His voice broke the cold silence of the night, very softly, but very demanding.

I brushed the hair from my eyes, putting it behind my ears, immediately. I stared at him, feeling slightly flustered under his invasive frown, but then his own eyes softened, and he stared out over the grounds again.

"I just don't need anymore dreams dashed tonight." The sudden, absolute _pulsing_ urge to touch his face, -- that looked so warm, and so nicely shaven -- surged through my body, and I swore I didn't come here to cry. I came here to yell at him.

"What do you _mean_?" I murmured, desperately, wanting so badly to grasp onto something.

"Nothing," He sighed, once again, as he ran his hand through his hair. "They're a bit of hope, is all I'm saying. It'd be terrible to cover them up. _Terrible_."

That night, I saw his face washed in the summer's warm sun, and his brow was sticky with sweat from the heavy, suffocating air. I saw him months from now, and I saw his face contorted due to something I imagined was sex. I saw him, real, out of this hell-frozen-over. I honestly believed that this was going to last**. **

abc.  
_  
_**"It Ends Tonight", by The All-American Rejects.**

**abc.  
**_  
_He took both of my hands, threading his fingers with mine, and leaned his forehead against my shoulder. We were standing a good distance apart, and the cold around and between us was a vivid contrast against the warmth radiating off of his exposed skin.

James spoke, in a low voice, of days gone by, and ruined Holidays, and of amazing smiles, and he said that he thought he might have been trying to protect me.

"It's not as if I meant to lie to you, I just didn't think you should know. You were this outsider to me for a few days, and I never considered why. But I think because...You seem to be this untouchable lovely thing to me, and I just didn't want to ruin that. You were so happy for so much of the Holidays, and I didn't...I didn't think you should know, I didn't want to worry you, I just,-"

"You left me alone with your five year old sister. I mean...Your Dad! Jude is some respected Ministry employee, and the day after it happens...You find it safe to leave me with your sister? You...You didn't want to _worry_ me? James, you can't keep thinking that I'm going to _break_," I pulled my hands away from his, and I took a step back, staring up at him. "There may be times that I'm falling apart a bit, but I'm so tired of being this naive girl to you."

A faint sound drew the attention of both of us, and we both saw the carriage making it's way up the drive from the direction of Hogsmeade.

"I'll be going now." I told him, curtly, staring at my hands, willing myself to take his coat off.

"Wait, I'll get Sirius to come walk back up with you," His hand slipped to the pocket of his pants, and I had no idea what he was talking about, but I shook my head anyway.

"Never mind it. What, am I going to get attacked on the way to Gryffindor Tower?" I shrugged. "I'll be fine."

James bent his head, gave me a hard, fleeting kiss on the lips, and stared at me with a clenched jaw.

"You? You're the most selfish person I know," He uttered in almost a growl. "You talk about compassion, you look for compassion, but do _you_ have any? Do you have compassion for anyone but yourself, Lily?"

James's hands flew to my shoulders, where he began pushing his coat off, and tugging it forcefully off of my arms.

"That wasn't even _remotely_ funny, and Lily -- God, if you're tired of being a naive girl to me, _stop acting like one_. Hell, you know what? You mean nothing to me right now." When he finally ripped the coat away from my body, I stumbled slightly in the snow, and frowned deeply at his retreating back. The carriage was a few feet away, and I heard James breathing heavily, sniffing a few times.

As he waited for the carriage -- Horsedrawn this time, I noticed. There was a driver and everything, unlike the carriages that we came in at the beginning of school, and the carriages that took us to Hogsmeade weekends -- to come to a complete stop I saw him pull something that looked like a mirror out of his pocket, and he was acutally speaking to it as I clumsily made my way back towards the castle.

I was panicking, and left reeling, and my lips were chapped, and still rather burning from his kiss. I kept thinking that had been the end. That my one slip of the tongue, my one stupid remark had ultimately ended anything before it actually began, and I was almost sobbing as I climbed the steps to the castle. I only gasped harder for breath, trying not to cry, as his voice ran, incessantly through my head, my mind imagining -- _If you're tired of being a naive girl, stop acting like one. Stop acting like one. You selfish, naive girl._

As I tugged one of the large oak doors open, I saw the carriage leaving, headed to Hogsmeade, and James Potter was headed with the carriage, though in a sense -- He was going in a complete opposite direction. All I knew was that he was leaving, and I thought once more -- Leaving was a strange feeling. Being _left_,even more so.

Sirius met me on the marble staircase, and he looked incredibly sympathetic -- I wondered if he was God in a sense. This unknown saviour.

The night was to end on a rather peaceful note, and sleep was a long lost friend.

abc.

**Done. Authoress note, replies, and lyrics on my livejournal.**

**Love,**

**Kaitlyn.**


	21. Lost & Found

**Chapter 21**  
"Lost and Found"

**abc.**

**"Long Day", by Matchbox Twenty.**

**abc.**

Three weeks had passed, quickly, since classes had resumed. There was a sort of dreary hell to every day. January seemed to be in a constant state of , and this January was no different. The sky didn't often brighten, and the only time it changed from it's bland, grey state was to cloud over, darken in colour, and . I was beginning to hate the snow almost as much as I hated the rain. 

It's something you go through, I think, every season. You get sick of the sun, you get sick of the rain, you get sick of the snow. I've found it's in a human's nature -- Never to be completely satisfied, or sated. If there's something _more_ you could attain, you want to. There was never a happy medium, and I was getting a little more sick to my stomach with each day. Someone had said it was all downhill from here -- Graduation, our _lives_ were so very close. Whoever said that was a liar, an idiot. Maybe it was me, but _whoever_ it was could never have imagined there would be more hills after all of these years. I wondered, wryly, if there was ever a point in your life without hills -- Where you didn't have to struggle for your sanity every waking minute.

James had returned on the day he said he would; Saturday. Bridget had, as well. They came to Dinner together, and I assumed they had taken the same train back to Hogsmeade. It was their own, sad, little parade, as they walked into the Great Hall, both of them gaining more attention than was necessary.

I became addicted to that perpetual sadness that hung, heavily, around James. Around everybody. Whether it was a concious decision or not, I didn't know -- But it was the only emotion you could really realize anymore.

Bridget wasn't so much sad as she was angry. She had always been a "make love, not war" sort of girl, one you just wanted to be around, but now she was so bitter. I found myself better friends with her now, than before, which made me feel a little strange -- I could be better friends with somebody angry, then I could be with somebody happy. What did it say about me, really.

Her long, dark hair hung limply most days, or she just threw it into a ponytail. It, like the rest of her, had lost it's vibrance. She had lovely brown eyes, and they were as lovely as always -- Perhaps even more so. There was a certain _passion_ about the girl now, that was completely undeniable. She didn't talk about Ray much, and as if I could blame her. She sat down with me the first evening she was back, and she told me that she hated carnations. It was the only flower at his funeral. Carnations were everywhere, she said, like some sea. Some blood red, sea of carnations. Is that supposed to make it easier, she asked me, laughing dryly. Are _flowers_ supposed to make death easier? Flowers are meant to be beautiful, and _why_ would you associate death with something beautiful?

I leaned back in the armchair I was sitting in, and just listened to Bridget talk, James Potter rather _forcefully_ stuck in my mind. Not until she was finished -- Ranting and raving about flowers, and death, and beauty. Before she was done it had all warped together, and I swore she had said "death is beautiful" -- did I tell her I was sorry about Ray. She, not so easily, told me it was fine. I thought it funny that she could be fine, but I was far from such a state.abc.

A sort of heavy innocence hung in the air around us, like a suffocating lie that grew bigger the more you believed it. He lay next to me, his breathing slow and steady, much like, he, himself was. There was nothing frantic or worried about him. He was slow-paced, nonchalant, and very lovely while doing so. And he was steady -- So consistent, so prominent, so steady.

He was asleep, his breathing told. Asleep with my sweater beneath him, as I sat with my legs drawn against my chest, hugging my knees tightly. Though he could not possibly see me, through the dark, and the fact that he was sleeping -- I felt the impulsive need to cover myself, as I only wore a thin tank top. The way he laid there was intimidating to such a point, that I normally just left, not wanting to talk about it, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to cry for the umpteenth time. I could not leave this time, because he had been getting frustrated with my disappearances, and he was asleep on my sweater. Yes, he was asleep on my sweater.

His shirt was off -- it had been when I came up --, and I felt my cheeks flush, as I realized, with a meek smile, that I had seen three out of the four Marauders sans shirt, all in very different situations. This one -- The most different of them all. He was sprawled out, with ease and gracefulness -- though I didn't know either were possible when one was sprawling -- conveying the fact that this was his bed, he owned it, and he was dominant. His legs took up far too much room, as they often did when he lay or sat in such an obnoxious manner, and I would often tell him that I had no choice _but_ to leave, because there was no room for me.

An eerie light cast over his face from the moon, filtering in through the closed hangings, and for minutes at a time you could not look at anything but him, because he was so dastardly handsome. A chill ran through my body, as I stared at his still form -- He was the only other person who did not want to talk about death.

Sirius Black was the only person as unpreoccupied with death as I was, and it was for that reason, and that reason only, for the last two weeks I had found myself in his bed on several occasions, kissing those lips.

The two of us didn't talk very much, for the only thing anybody was talking about were the deaths, and the attacks, and the forming alliances -- either for bad or for good -- and the quiet sadness that covered everything was something that I could not quite understand, yet I could not quite let go of. I found it oddly fascinating, the delicate atmosphere that seemed to envelope Hogwarts. It was addicting. It -- the quiet, the cold, the heavy-hearts -- was what I was preoccupied with. Not the death. I felt a strange disconnection with everybody who had been affected by it -- Everybody who read the newspapers, and talked in hushed voices about the impending doom, the end of the world, whatever was to happen. There was that disconnection, there was that absolute _loss _of James, and then there was Sirius.

James hadn't spoke to me the day he returned, or any day after that, and Sirius had been careful to avoid that subject altogether. He was very careful, he tread softly. It felt nice, I decided, to kiss a boy who had no intentions of breaking your heart, and who was okay with the fact that he was, seemingly, being used.

My lip curled slightly, and on it's own accord, as I thought about that. Using Sirius. I felt dirty, somehow, small, and pathetic. Sirius was _far_ too good to be used by some silly girl, just because she can't quite find her place in the world. He was far too good for that, and far too good for me, and my games. I hated it when he smiled at me, as if this was right.

"Sirius, I have to go," I said, suspecting him to be awake now, and I nudged him with my foot a few times to jar him.

"What's your point, love? Normally you leave without formal goodbye's." He turned over onto his back, smiling smartly, and stretched his arms over top of his head, easing the sleep from his joints.

I nodded, and quirked the side of my mouth, offering him a bit of a hopeless look, which he appeared sympathetic to, and he sat up, pulling my shirt out from under him, and handed it to me. I felt the strangest feeling of warmth toward him, and I tugged my shirt on, quickly, trying not to recognize the feel of his eyes on me.

"You're going to be okay?" Sirius asked, quietly, and perhaps just for the false assurance I may offer him. When you are asked that, you say 'yes', and the two of you continue to ignore anything, and everything.

I tried, very hard, to nod, and say 'yes', and to thank him, or something of the sort, but neither of the three I could manage, instead finding myself reaching for him, and kissing him very soundly on the lips.

He was always very thorough, and warm when we were together, yet I did not find myself falling for him as we had fell for one another not so long ago, and I hated that, but could not help but enjoy the feeling of absolute freedom when I was around him.

"You're so damned _indecisive_." He muttered softly, as he brushed his lips over my very flushed cheek, and trailed his fingers up and down my spine.

My eyes fluttered, and were begging to shut, and I sometimes felt a sense of empowerment when that happened -- I could deny it, I could still deny him, and that charm. I doubted there were many girls who could say that was one of their accomplishments.

"By no means do you _have _to go, Lily, as tomorrow's Saturday and there's nothing to wake up early for -- But you _want_ to go, and I understand that. So, I will see you in the morning." He reached over to the hangings, and opened them, flashing me a smile.

The room was dark, save for the ghostly-hued, dim light coming in the windows, and I found the creases of his forehead, and mouth etched with shadows, and his impossibly light blue eyes were dancing with a darkness that was uncharacteristic, yet matched him perfectly.

"Goodnight, Sirius." I said to him boldly, I thought, and graciously, as I hopped from the bed, and shut the hangings in a fluid movement.

It was the simplest thing to say, goodnight Sirius --

As if this was right.abc."Dark Blue", by Jack's Mannequin.

abc."You're shagging him, aren't you?"

The whole school, and I even had to shake my head as I knew I was not exagerrating in the slighest, was at the Qudditch match. Gryffindor Tower was completely empty, and it was where I found myself, thinking to be alone, as I sat reading a book.

It was a Ravenclaw versus Slytherin game, and the Gryffindor team was quite anxious to watch, seeing what they could pick up on two of the best teams. After the game was over there was Qudditch practice, Sirius told me that morning, for the Gryffindor team, and I was surprised that James was, finally, taking his position as captain seriously.

I looked up from my book -- wondering if the boy had been speaking to me -- when I saw who it was, narrowing my eyes and pursing my lips at the unwanted company.

"Go to hell, Remus." I said, flipping the page in my book, and reading on, ignoring the laughter that came from him, as he stood near the entrance to the common room.

He didn't speak as he approached the sofa that I sat on, and when I looked up again he was standing directly in front of me, with his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, and the look on his face nothing short of serious.

"Pete thinks you're shagging him._ I _think you're shagging him. It's only a matter of time before the _important one_ thinks you're shagging him, too."

I glared at him, knowing that it was on purpose -- How he conveniently avoided names. Who I was thought to be shagging, and who the important one was, and he wanted me to fall into that trap. Remus Lupin was a man of routine. He liked to keep his mind games simple, and it was funny how I would always end up giving the information he wanted, despite the simplicity of his sarcastic, manipulative games.

"I'm not _sleeping with_ him." I said, casually, to the sandy-haired Marauder, who's seriousness shot away, and a cheeky grin took it's place.

"And...which 'him' is it that you're not shagging?" Remus asked, crudely, as he sat down on the couch next to me, his shoulder bumping mine, and I tossed my book down, folding my arms and staring, unblinkingly, straight ahead.

I knew that, in his own twisted way, Remus was trying to make a point. Remus did some things the simplest way possible, yet he did some things the hard way. Just whichever way he enjoyed the most. Proving his point -- He enjoyed doing it the hard way. Dragging it out, and making you wonder why you spoke to him in the first place.

"I'm not sleeping with Sirius," He went to speak, but I continued. "And I'm not sleeping with James. I don't need you sitting here telling me that it's _sad_, or it's pathetic, or it's _miserable_ that I don't know which one you're talking about. I don't need you saying that it's quite like me, or quite like a _whore_ to have more than one boy on her 'shagging' list. I don't need to listen to _you_, Remus, because I don't give a _damn_ about you."

I stood up, pulling my hair out of my face, and I looked down at Remus, who, in the last few weeks, had grown quite scrawny, and weary looking. I think Sirius may have been the only person I knew who seemed healthy anymore. I couldn't believe that this was an acceptable way for people to react to tragedy, I couldn't believe that lives could be so shattered by it -- I just always liked to think that Remus didn't have a heart.

He had a stubbly beard, darker in colour than his sandy blonde hair, and the circles beneath his stormy blue eyes told stories that could go on for days. He looked gaunt, and his cheeks were sunken, and I frowned as I observed him, wondering if he got more than three hours of sleep a night. Or any, for that matter.

There was a sort of absolute silence, as Remus sat with his arms -- the only thing on him that seemed to have muscle -- folded over his chest, chewing the corner of his mouth, and watching me with narrowed eyes. I thought, maybe, I surprised him at times. When I was strong, and fierce, and prepared to go down swinging. I wondered if I surprised him then, just like he surprised me when he was something other than strong, and fierce, and prepared -- When he was kind, or caring, or gentle.

"You look good," He said after a moment, looking thoughtful as he studied me further, his arms still folded.

"Are you happy? You look good."

For a second, I considered happiness, and I considered the warmth of Sirius, and I considered the last three weeks. It was happiness, in a sense, I think. It could not have been complete happiness, it could not have been guilt free happiness, because there was that weight. Knowing that he and I weren't right, knowing that this was bound to collapse, and just maybe I'd be left alone again. It wasn't happiness, but it was freedom. There was freedom, there was liberty in the bond I had developed with Sirius, and though I wasn't sure I wanted to let that go -- I knew that I could not be happy until there was that _honesty_ to accompany that freedom. With Sirius honesty was lacking, in every form, and with James? It seemed it was all honesty, and for some reason I missed that.

"No, bloody hell no," I tugged at my hair, sighing, and felt the ability to breathe leaving me. "No, I'm not happy. It's stupid of me to say that, and I always thought it was stupid of other people to say it," My Mum for example. She was never, ever happy, and she made sure everyone knew. She'd wander the house in the mornings, wearing her silky dressing gown, and a pair of slippers, and she'd drag off of a cigarette, and she would tell my Father a hundred times over that she wasn't happy, and that he'd better do something about it -- Well, he divorced her.

"But I'm not happy, genuinely. When I'm with...him, I'm alright, because it's so fake, yet somehow I can breathe when I'm with him," I took several gulps of the warm, dry air of the common room, due to the wood in the fireplace burning constantly. "But you know it'd be wrong of me to say I'm happy when it's as if no one else is."

I couldn't imagine that I looked good, because I thought I had lost weight, and my hair was too long, and too curly, and my fair skin seemed even more drab, and pale in the winter months. My eyes stuck out awkwardly from my white skin, and I didn't look good, I decided -- Because Remus Lupin was a liar, because Remus Lupin had no heart, and I was desperate to convince myself he was the bad guy.

"I'm not going to call you miserable or pathetic or a whore," He tiredly rubbed his eyes, and stifled a yawn. It was almost three in the afternoon, and he was ready to sleep at any moment. It worried me, a bit, to see the condition of things. The condition of people's lives. What all of the secrets did to them.

"I'm just going to tell you this -- James has Qudditch practice when the pitch is free after the game," I nodded, as Sirius had told me earlier.

He pressed on.

"You're going to pull that hair from your face, and you're going to put some lipstick on, and wear a scarf, along with that chocolate coloured coat you have -- You're going to go down to that pitch at six o'clock, and you're going to throw yourself in his face, everything he's been missing, and you're going to talk to him, because if you don't -- You _won't _be genuinely happy. Even if you can breathe, or whatever, with Sirius, who says that's a good thing? Maybe with James...You can't breathe, because he's breath-taking to you, maybe. This is so morally wrong of the two of you, and you don't have to say a word to him about Sirius. Not _yet_. Just talk to James, Lily."

Remus stood, and I felt myself shrink as he towered over me, weary or not, he was still somehow golden, and good -- Just far too real.

"I think he may need it. More than Sirius needs you, and _you _always seem to_ need _that little push in the right direction, you know? Right. I need a cigarette, see you."

He stood, swiftly, and left through the potrait hole he had just came through, to go smoke his cigarettes, and to go be who he always was -- The boy with the bad intentions, but the good heart.

**abc.**

**"Expo '86", by Death Cab for Cutie.**

**abc.**

It was that time in the evening, when the sun meets the horizon, and is just starting to sink below it. It hadn't yet set -- It was in some sort of limbo, it was twilight. The sun was lingering, it no longer visible, but the sun's rays still casting a weak light through the sky. A pale yellow meeting the navy, and merging, pinks and lighter blues slipping in. The stars seemed to fade, slightly, with the stubborn sunlight still flooding onto their territory, but it made for an even prettier picture, an even lovlier night. Sometimes it was still hard to believe that we would have to leave Hogwarts. Leave these grounds, and that Qudditch pitch, and our lives as we knew it. I didn't believe that the sky would look like this everywhere we went. I didn't believe the sun set that slowly, sunk that lazily anywhere else -- I think it was just Hogwarts' magic, I think that's why we always seemed to have the time, to have the accuracy to see that sky after the sun's set. We all appreciated it, too.

"Hullo." I greeted each member of the Gryffindor Qudditch team, as I approached the pitch, and they were headed in the opposite direction. Brooms thrown over their shoulders, cheeks flushed with cold, and hair a mess, each one of them would offer a nod and smile. It wasn't the team I was worried about, it was the captain.

I walked on, half-heartedly hoping that he had already left, and I had missed him, though I knew better, as he'd be the last one to leave, after gathering the equipment up.

The snow-covered lawn sloped, and I trotted down it, my arms folded tightly over me, my breath leaving my mouth and seeming to turn white, instantly. The pitch came into view, and though the light at this time in the evening often played tricks on your eyes, I knew that it was him, that it was his figure walking toward me, with his broom, too, over his shoulder.

That jolt of hair, and that lanky form gave it away before the shadows were even gone off of his face, and I was close enough to see him properly. Three weeks suddenly seemed like forever, and I found my pace slowing, as I wondered just what I was going to say.

I wore that chocolate coloured coat Remus suggested I wear, and instead of lipstick I wore mascara. Tucked in my pocket was a letter, and when I thought of it my hands shook. When I thought of him my hands shook.

Pressure lingered, to say something right, after three weeks of saying nothing at all. There was pressure to come up with something solid, and honest, and strong to say, because you would think after so much time to do nothing but brood and dwell on it -- You would have something to say, something that might express a bit of what you've been feeling. I had been so angry, and frustrated, and I stood there, now, like some kind of daft girl --

Because he seemed different, a bit. _Better_, I thought, seeing his hair impossibly messed up, his cheeks and the end of his nose rosy in colour. His hazel eyes were bright behind his glasses, which faintly reflected the quickly darkening sky, and the near-full moon. He was slightly breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and his stance was so relaxed, and so unlike how I had remembered him.

Tilting my head, I put my hands in my pockets, waiting for him to approach me, and I wondered if he would be able to know it was me through the becoming night, like I had known it was him.

"Hey." He breathed, a generous smile cast over his features, as he set his broom down on the ground to rub his gloved hands together.

"It's Lily." I told him, feeling strange and foreign standing this near to him, and a bit _stupid_ for having said my name, as if I thought _he_ were stupid.

"Yeah, who else could it be?" He asked, casually, as if there had not been a gap at all between us. His smile was cheeky and something I had forgotten of -- He could smile like that sometimes. He had that boyish grace.

I nodded a few times, feeling so ridiulously _exposed_ that I thought I might be falling, or drowning.

It occured to me -- as I spoke his name for what felt like the first time, ever -- that it could not be anybody but _him_, either. Not on this starry, light, swallowing night, when everything about him was like it should have always been. When he was charming, and boyish, and washed in the most romantic light possible -- The moon and the sun's rays and the stars all at once. It was _James_, and I hated that it, really, was always going to be James.

Sighing, I rubbed my forehead, and found myself smiling, too, though it was sadder than his own was. He had been sad, the last time I checked.

"Hi James." Just as I said it, he ran a hand back through his hair, appearing meek for a moment, and then that cheeky grin was back in place, and he wore it well.

He was undeniable. He was on fire. And I didn't want to ruin it with that damned letter in my pocket.

**abc. **

"Swallowed in the Sea", by Coldplay.

**abc. **

Way too long of a wait, way too short of a chapter. How do I apologize? I don't think I can, but I still love and appreciate you all so, so much for not giving up completely on me. I realize it is ridiculously short, and I considered waiting until after the Holidays to post it, when I'll get a chance to write more, but I decided it's _necessary_, almost, for the chapter to be this short. There'll be loose endings tied up in the next few chapters, including the "letter" for Lily, which I promise does not hold _devastating_ news for her, but it's news in the least, and it's just a line I want to finish up. Perhaps the change in James, or so it appears, seems impossible, as well, but I felt it to be right, after so long of them not speaking, he couldn't've possibly stayed sad and depressed, could have he?

I will put the lyrics up on my livejournal, and I may try to do some review replies, but there are just sooo many, which I love. I don't really have an excuse for taking so long -- Just school, and life, and being lousy and uninspired.

I wanted to mention that I've been writing this for _over_ a year, and I owe that to all of you. It's amazing that you can get older, and grow up, yet still stick with something like this. So, thank you.

I hope you all have wonderful Holidays, whatever it is you celebrate -- Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, and so on.

Thanks for sticking with me.

**Kaitlyn.**


	22. Lily & James

**Chapter 22  
**"Lily and James"

**abc. **

**"The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot", by Brand New.**

**abc.**

Out here, surrounded by nothing but the cold, the night, and James -- Everything seemed vast. The sky, quite possibly, went on forever. Those stars, the rolling hills and fields, they were endless. It was startling to feel so small, and insignificant. It was utterly breath-taking to feel as if you could walk right up to the moon; take hold of a star and hang on for dear life. Nothing, ever, quite compared to the simplicity of the quiet, quiet times I spent with James. The moments could have been lifetimes, yet they were still so fleeting, and brief.

He had made sure the cloak he wore over his Quidditch clothes covered his backside, and I pulled my coat down over mine, as well, sitting next to him in the snow, sinking in it slightly due to it's depth. He bent his knees up, and draped his arms around them, staring up at the sky, and all around this pretty picture.

Quivering both from the cold, and the nerves, I pulled the letter out of my pocket, and I handed it to him, breathing deeply as he looked at it, and then into my eyes, as he hadn't for weeks, and weeks.

"What's this?" He asked, and to the night, to this place it was just like he took a breath, having not said a word, having not disturbed a thing.

"It's a letter." I said, stating the obvious, not quite sure what else to say -- Perhaps what I thought of it, what I thought was in it, what I thought it could mean.

The owl had flew to one of the windows in the common room, shortly after Remus had left, and pecked at it incessantly until I opened it, and accepted the letter from it's talons. And it was for me, my name written across the envelope, and _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_ written below, as if the sender didn't trust the owling system, and doubted a simple name would get it there.

It was from my sister.

"Would you read it, maybe? It's from my sister, and I just...I can't explain nor help how I get when this happens. Contact from my family, and I just...I fall apart, a little bit, James." I was sure I did not need to remind him of my Father's visit to his house over the Holidays.

He swallowed, and slowly removed the folded paper from the envelope, turning it over with two of his fingers, looking, for an instant, like the boy I had lost three weeks ago. This strong, careless, charming boy flickered, and over his face was everything I remembered James was made of. There was guilt, I thought, playing in his eyes, and nostalgia was in the air.

"Are you..." He trailed off, hunching his shoulders up against the cold, flicked the end of his nose, and then continued. The guilt was in his voice, too.

"Are you expecting bad news, Lily?"

I thought, maybe, by the tone his voice held, and the sullen expression his handsome face was set in -- Maybe I was expecting bad news. He seemed to think I was, and it had me for a moment, until I realized the cause of that evident guilt etched all over him --

That letter could have been sent to tell me that someone had died, or someone was dying, telling me, maybe, that my world was about to crash, as James's had seemed to a few weeks ago. And it was killing him, as he sat there _clutching _it, because he did not know. He wouldn't know, because he had been all but gone to me, and he was feeling guilty about that.

"No, but then again I'm never really expecting _good_ news."

Giving it one final look, he set it back in my lap, and the wind made the corners of the now unfolded paper quiver slightly.

"I don't think it's my place."

I smacked my lips, nodded my head, and acted like it did not sting in the least. Because, no, after three weeks, it almost wasn't his place. This wasn't his place, here with me, just then. It took a long time to convince one another, that this was his place, was my place, was _our_ place.

"Alright." Was all I managed, as I gathered the letter and the envelope in my hands, preparing to stand up and leave him sitting there, in the cold.

"Lily, _honestly_," He said quietly, shaking his head, and sighing. "You're quite _capable_ of reading it, and it may be good for you to read it. I'll..." James looked up at me, and everything about him was, somehow, alight. The soft light of the moon brushed over his face a certain way, making him appear vivid, and clear, and mature. Whatever it was, it caused me to stay sitting there with him, waiting for him to finish his trailed-off sentence.

"I'll stay here with you, though. You once asked me not to treat you like you are five, and I think reading the letter _to _you would be doing that. You have my full attention, though."

There was a moment, in which James breathed loudly, and I became very aware of the numbness in my legs. It was a bitter sort of cold, it penetrated you, deeply, and the goosebumps on your skin were almost painful. Times like these, I thought, were what kept us alive -- There was something to realize, and to hold on to, and to take from these moments.

I began reading the letter aloud. Slowly, articulating each word properly. It was dizzying to try to read by such strange, dim light -- that of the moon -- and the words seemed to intertwine with one another. Nothing I read really struck me, anyway, and I thrust the letter back to my lap, taking a deep breath -- so deep my chest ached -- and looking at the hazel-eyed boy to my right.

"James," I said, passionately and emotionally, though I tried to sound anything but. "I've _missed_ you."

And I had, because three weeks was an almost intolerable amount of time. He seemed like a completely different person, and I did not want him to be happy, if I could not be happy. James did not seem like the type of boy who could find it so easily, and I was just _wondering_ what I had missed, in those thoughts, and in those eyes for three weeks. It was startling to have it occur so suddenly -- There were no preoccupations, no books, or students, or head girl duties out here. There was no Sirius to distract, no Bridget to be bitter with -- There was just _James_, and I had _missed _him.

He said nothing for a long time, and I would've thought he hadn't heard me if his eyes hadn't been burning into my own when I told him. Several times he opened his mouth to speak, a flame leapt somewhere within him, and then it flickered and faltered, and he was quiet once more.

James's shoulders were no less broad than they had been the last time I checked, and his hair was still untidy, and jet black -- He was like a familiar song, whose words and music were in the back of your mind, and you forgot about it and how to sing it, until you heard it again, and it just falls into place with no effort whatsoever on your behalf. Being with him, and near him was like that -- I forgot about how it was, about who he was, and about missing him, but just as quickly it had all come rushing back to me, and it was a strange, yet not so strange, comfort.

"For three weeks I just, basically, sat around," His eyes were downcast, focusing on the sparkling snow, and the remains of a smile played over his lips.

"Well, you know what I mean, I didn't litterally just _sit around_ for three weeks, but..." Trailing off, he rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, frustrated, and then he was, suddenly, at ease again.

James leaned back on his elbows, and his voice was loud, and seemed to resound for miles. He looked at me, and let his eyes trail up and down me, and all over my face, as if he was assuring himself this was the right thing -- Either what he was about to say, or just being close to me.

"I just tried to figure it out, what it is about you that I just...can't pull myself away from. Because you're not whole, and you're not steady. You're unsure of yourself, and of every person in your life, and you can be so rude and so awkward. But I don't even realize any of that -- I just look at you, and I just think you're lovely, and elegant," The pause he took was gracious, and appreciated, and I bit my lip waiting for him to finish, waiting for him to sweep me off my feet.

"I've missed you as well, Lily."

With the way his eyes were looking -- dark and perturbed --, and with them focusing so hard on the snowy ground -- I knew that he meant it, perhaps more than he had meant anything he had, ever, said to me before this. And he did -- Sweep me off my feet, that is.

It was impossible not to feel an insurmountable rush of affection, fondness toward James, just then, and I wanted to disregard the nagging questions in my mind. The day he left, he had both called me his girlfriend, and told me that I meant nothing to him, and I wanted to know which impression I was supposed to have been left with -- Being his girlfriend, or meaning nothing.

I breathed slowly, not wanting to speak any further, because I found it absolutely unnecessary with us.

"Are you alright with...what you read?" He asked, resuming his original position, his arms over his bent up knees, and offering a casual glance to the letter in my lap, which I then placed back in the envelope, and inside of my pocket.

"They sold the house." I said, repeating the words I had read, but had not been aware of until he asked me. It took a moment for the impact to it, and then I felt slightly winded.

My eyes watered, though it was more from lack of blinking than it was crying. I wasn't sure how to be sad over something I was meant to miss, when it was something I had lost ages ago. A home.

"It's strange," I muttered, feeling James's eyes on me, and him shift next to me, sitting closer. "Just that...I don't have a place to go home to now. It's real, yeah? When we graduate, I'll really have to...Start a life, get a job, let go."

With a sigh, that was on behalf of both of us, James gave my shoulder a squeeze, and then stood, bending to pick his broom up, and preparing to go to dinner.

"You let go long ago, Lily," There was no continuation, and it was for me to decide whether he was talking about my family, my house, my compassion and love for them -- Or him, and me, and whatever it was we were doing. I thought it was both.

"It's...cold, I'm going to eat some dinner, and...Don't stay out too much longer, alright? I will see you later." Without waiting for so much as a nod from me, he turned and trudged through the snow, towards the castle, and I found it actually, physically, hurt to see him turn his back on me, as he had the day he left in that carriage. Because even if I didn't have a house, a roof over my head, somewhere to return to when this hetic ride was over -- I did have a place to call home, I thought, and that had been James, and I was tired of watching people walk away.

**abc.**

It was eight o'clock -- I knew more from the feel of the hour than by the actual time on the clock -- and I lay on my bed, which was still neatly made. I felt like closing my eyes now, going to sleep at this time may be something like surrendering. It was early, it was eight o'clock, the hour I so often dwelled on, and it was sad, a bit, that I had nothing better to do on a Saturday evening.

The letter lay on my night stand, unfinished and proudly so. I did not care to finish it. I did not need to know anything else.

Just then all I really knew was guilt, anyway. There was no longing, or remorse, no sudden need for my family, my sister, my mother, my house. There was, instead, gnawing _guilt_, because I was there thinking so intently on kissing James Potter again, -- it seemed to make things nicer -- when miserably earlier that morning I had been kissing his best friend -- Earlier that morning, and the night before, a week before that...

Remus had told me not to mention Sirius, just to go and _talk_ to James, and I had, and it seemed to succeed well enough, though there seemed to be a lingering doubt, an exhaustion between us, despite his surprising charm and good-nature. I did not want to strain it further, I did not want to even speak anymore of the three weeks in which James Potter barely existed to me. I found it pathetic, and cliché, and _needy_ of me -- But I just wanted to be with him, then. Guiltly or not, I just wanted to be near him for as long as possible, as if to remind myself he was real, and good, and _there_ -- It wasn't something that lasted, though. We came and went to one another; on and off again.

I was stifling a yawn when the door to the dormitory opened with a _creak_, and I went to reach for my hangings, going to pull them shut so I wouldn't have to endure conversation with anybody. I thought it sad that I could actually function like that, that I much rathered lying alone in my own, large bed than talking to someone who may be able to offer some insight on my ponderings. The only person, I thought, that could fix this, and perhaps return me to some state of normalcy was James Potter -- But there was that dependency I hated so badly. In reality, the only person who could fix any of this was myself, and I was just far too unwilling to do it.

"Ah, don't go hiding, Lily." I heard him say, as he tugged the hangings open before I could fully close them, and I was so startled, I just lay there, completely still, and wide-eyed.

I wore a pair of navy pajama pants -- that were riding low on my hips what with all of the twisting and turning I did to get comfortable -- and a white tank top, that was lifted up to my rib cage, as I had been trailing my hand over the skin of my stomach -- It was a comfort issue, and that's the first thing I said to James, as I forced myself into action, sitting up slightly and pulling the shirt down.

He shrugged, and with a sly smirk told me he had no problem with that issue of mine.

Then his smirk faded, my initial panic faded, and not-so-suddenly there was just James and me -- Just Lily and James.

More looking for something to preoccupy himself with, he reached for the hem of my shirt and yanked it back up, touching the skin of my stomach near my navel, and though his hands were warm, goose bumps instantly prickled over my body, and I shuddered, taking his hand away and holding it in my own.

The aching familiarity of the situation -- to the one we had found ourselves in the day he told me Jocelyn died -- melted that guilt, and that doubt, and the something between us returned, instantly, and though I hated nothing seemed to change between us -- There was always a bed, and a dorm, and some overwhelming moment of silence-- I could not turn him away now. Or ever, really.

Kissing him was something I had hoped to have down to a skill by now, but when his lips covered mine, expecting a response, I could do nothing but awkwardly reach for him, and hold my arms around his back very tightly.

He rested his full weight on top of me, and I bent my right leg up so it wouldn't be crushed by him, almost hooking it around his waist. I felt, for a moment, like I was suffocating beneath him, being buried by the satisfying weight of his warm body, and if that was the case, I thought, this is how I want to die.

James shifted, easing the pressure on me, and I found I could breathe again, just as my hands found his hair. I threaded my fingers through it, tugging gently as he kissed me, and kissed me, and never seemed to tire of it.

He could have been doing it his whole life, I decided, as his teeth grazed my lip, and suddenly the kisses were deeper, and longer, and it _wasn't_ like this in romance novels. This wasn't some cheap, alcohol-induced moment; this was James, and this was what we did -- He tasted of something sweet, chocolate perhaps, and peppermint.

When he pulled away for breath -- though it was me who was quietly gasping --, he let out a small groan, as I continued to thread and tug at his hair, knowing that with him -- That was _his_ comfort issue.

It wasn't long, it wasn't going to lead to anything, and it wasn't love -- It was _good_, and ended quickly, as he rolled off of me, coming to lay on my left side, as if that had been his intention in the first place, and his mind miscalculated where he would end up when he tried to move.

"Aren't you _cold_?" He asked in a low, deep voice, before pulling a face, and toying with the strap of my tank top. I felt like my whole body was flushed with heat, and thanks to him, no, I wasn't very cold.

"Not really." I said, with a shrug. Quite an understatement, really.

I rolled over onto my side, facing him, and twisted nearer to him, tangling our legs together, and splaying my hand out over his chest. I could feel his heart beat drumming against my awaiting fingers, and I repeated the rhythm it followed, silently, in my head. A strong, steady rhythm.

His face was tucked away in the crook of my neck, near my shoulder. He pressed his lips to the skin, and opened his mouth against it, not kissing, just letting his warm mouth rest there. I shut my eyes, feeling lethargic and as if I was under the influence of a powerful medication -- Well, I suppose that could have been James.

For a long time we were quiet, and motionless and I thought perhaps he was never going to leave, and we would never have to talk or think about or discuss those three, terribly empty weeks without him.

But then he pouted his lips and placed a quick, wet kiss to my neck, pulled away from me, and laid on his back, staring upwards. I realized, as I watched him from the few inches he had put between us, that even now with him so close to me, physically, I had never felt more alone. There was a brief moment in which I felt as if I were viewing a stranger through a window, and that he was somehow untouchable.

I had spent the majority of the weeks without him, in Sirius's bed, forgetting of him, and forgetting of the friendship, and losing complete touch with him, and that was just very apparent to me now. There had been a space created between us long ago -- that unidentifiable gap in our lives, from where we came from -- and we had succeeded in widening that space, letting more _life_ seep in before we could, before _I could_, secure him as my own.

"Do you ever wonder," He seemed to sigh, as he rubbed a hand over his face, surrendering to the obvious weariness of the evening, and the situation. "If we could make it work outside of this bed? Or outside of just you and me?"

I told him, sitting up and moving away from him, that -- No, I didn't. I didn't really concentrate on working outside of just us, and I never considered another living soul, at times. And I told him that I knew he did, think about it, and I knew he did _not_ -- Think we could make it work.

A long, heavy silence followed, and I sat with my legs pulled tight against my chest, my arms hugging them to me, and my chin resting atop them.

"It just seems such a hard _concept_ -- That there are other people, besides us."

I heard him inhale slowly, and the pause he took before speaking was only such because he was holding his breath, and I looked down at him with a frown, causing him to exhale loudly.

He was long and dark against the ruby-red duvet on my bed. His black-as-coal hair stuck out, vividly, on the white pillow he had fluffed and put beneath his head, and his feet were practically hanging off the end of the bed, as he stretched out and somehow appeared calm and alert at the same time. He looked as if he didn't belong there, next to me.

"Yeah," Was his first word, a quick murmur, and then he pulled me down, so I was laying again, and he kept me close by pressing his hand against the small of my back, every inch of his body flush against my own. "You're right. There's really nothing like this, is there?" He finished, rhetorically.

James kept very still, letting his hand drift down over my hip and then up into my hair, as he kissed me again -- Slowly and lazily, and with remarkable thoroughness. He moved the hand he had on my back, gripping my chin with his thumb and forefinger, dragging my mouth away from his own. I tried not to turn my head, and he took the time to stare into my eyes, which he said were simply green, because he could not think of any other colour to do them justice -- Jade, perhaps, but he just wasn't sure

As we lay there, I thought about winter ending, and about the seasons to come -- And in my mind it became a warmer month, July perhaps, and there was a haziness to the mid-afternoon sky, the heat making it seem like it might just melt away. The sky was a pale yellow colour, not the light blue you were used to that far into July. There was no breeze, and the day was hot and heavy, almost suffocating you if you dared do anything but just sit there, and breathe. I realized, swearing I could almost smell the sweet aroma of a summer afternoon, that I wanted to have that with James. I wanted to have sun, and to have humid days with him. I wanted to kiss him and taste the sweet yet tart remnants of lemonade on his lips, and to have his arm around me as we relaxed, watching the sun set late in the evening.

I figured it was _something. _Perhaps it was me opening up, perhaps it was me finally admitting I doubted there was any getting away from this, from these feelings. I felt that, maybe, if we were able to get away from these grey, bland days of winter -- Maybe there was some happiness in the summer, in the sun, in that lovely time of year. I believed, so terribly, that there was.

"What are you thinking about?" James asked, sounding genuinely curious, as I opened my eyes I hadn't realized were closed. Any other time I would not have told him, but things seemed to change when we were like this, when his face was that close to my own.

"Summertime." I told him -- in a whisper for fear of that if I spoke of it too loudly it may never come --, finding myself actually surprised by the dark of the room, because the picture I had in my mind of July had been so decevingly _real_, and I did not believe that this was still January, even if February wasn't far off.

And that was it for the night, as he closed his eyes, with a bit of a smile, and sleep met us both, so early in the evening.

**abc. **

**"I Will Follow You into the Dark", by Death Cab for Cutie. **

**abc. **

The week that followed proved to be a difficult one. Head duties had become impossible to ignore, and I was suddenly forced to be concerned about my grades and classes again. I'd often wonder why I was taking Potions, when I was in the midst of a class with Professor Slughorn, and I grew to believe that I was taking it for a break. I was taking that class just so I had a bit of a release from the rest of the chaotic days, and the parties Slughorn would sometimes throw was just a small price to pay for some piece of mind, once in awhile.

Working James Potter back into my schedule didn't happen for much of that week. I saw him in class, when I couldn't talk to him, and I never once came across him at a meal the same time I was. It didn't make much sense, to sit and to talk and to wonder whether we could potentially _function_ around other people, and then avoid doing just that. I wouldn't approach him with the other Marauders around even if I would have seen him, because they seemed to be at odds with me, though the only one who sort-of deserved to be was Sirius. What we had never made much sense to me, and I found that I didn't really want it to anymore.

The pride that he, Sirius, often offered seemed to have rubbed off on me, because whenever I felt bad or like I should go and talk to him -- I'd just flip my hair over my shoulder, and think that I should let him come to me. If he was angry, it was obviously because he felt something for me, and though that was supposed to have been resolved -- I felt proud, because he just couldn't seem to let go.

When dinner time on Friday, the thirty-first of January, had rolled around, I was exhausted with doing homework all night, or giving up on that and just sitting on my bed, staring in the direction of the night stand, knowing that there was an unfolded letter there, with smoldering words that were awaiting their finish. I was just going to throw it out, was what I kept telling myself, but lies are a bit of a comfort for the weak.

That Friday night, instead of sitting in the dorm once again -- that was either too cold or too stifling -- I had a quick supper, just enough to say I ate, and wandered outside, down to the pitch. The word at the Gryffindor table was James had been outside coming up with plays for the Quidditch team to practice, and the only thing, then, I could think of doing was spending time with him. It's funny how you don't realize how much you've missed something or someone until you've got it back.

And he was there, of course, but not high up in the sky, as I had expected him to be. I expected to trudge to the pitch, through the snow, and stand there with my neck craned, watching that messy-haired boy who had flew away with my heart.

He appeared nothing more than an abstract sort of splotch against the undisturbed, fresh-fallen snow, from where I was. As if a bed of flowers was blossoming through the snow, but instead of appearing bold, and bright-coloured, it was just a dark, tangly mass, the only colours amongst the dark ones were scarlet and gold -- His Gryffindor scarf.

While a part of me wanted to immediately assume he was dead, or had fell from his broom and broke his back, another part of me knew better than that, and that part of me was the one that put the smile on my face, as I walked at a leisurely pace toward the boy who was spread-eagled in the snow.

His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly, and the setting sun's light was cast over him graciously. Shadows stretched over his face, seeming to enhance his features, and though the glow was of a heavenly sort, it never occured to me -- There was a dark essence to him that evening, and I decided the shadows sort of completed him.

And then it became apparent to me, as I stood there looking down at James Potter and feeling, somehow, infinite -- The two of us, from here on out, were always going to be Lily and James, and it struck me oddly, as the world outside of us slipped away into a vague memory, and it was just the two of us, in the middle of a Quidditch pitch, completely alone. It felt nice to be alone, sometimes.

"Laying in the snow, getting your clothes all sodden, catching your death of cold -- Finally lost your mind, have you?" I asked him, airily, taking a few steps toward his form, so that I was standing just at his side, at such an angle that he had become totally covered by shadow.

"No, but I'd appreciate it if you'd keep quiet for a bit." He replied, after a second , in a voice so serious that I witheld my laughter.

Growing impatient, I went to speak again, but James sighed loudly and opened his eyes, telling me to lay next to him if I wanted to understand what he was doing.

I did so, grumbling as the cold, wet snow dampened my jeans, though my coat was heavy enough that it didn't soak through it.

"Now, just listen. It sounds almost like thunder." He made a content sort of sound, and rested his hands on his stomach to make room for me, right next to him.

"What is it that sounds almost like thunder?" I asked, squinting over at him -- The sun wasn't that strong, but it reflected off the snow almost blindingly.

"Your heartbeat. If you just commit yourself, for a minute, you'd hear it automatically. It completely overwhelms every other,-"

I hushed him, holding my breath for a second, and tried to listen for my heart's drumming beat resounding in my ears, as if it were the most important thing in the world. I was _aware_ of my heartbeat, but I just didn't hear it as he described it -- There was no thunder for me. So, instead of listening as we laid there, I _wondered_. I wondered just why this was so important to him, I wondered why his broomstick was no where to be seen, and I wondered why he seemed to crave this sometimes, as well, this absolute solitary.

The moment seemed to pass, and he turned to look at me before sitting up. I told him that I admired him for being able to just lay and listen to his own heartbeat, despite the fact I wasn't sure why I even found it admirable in the first place.

He just shook his head full of messy, shaggy, jet-black hair, and smiled a cheeky, warm smile, and for a long moment I saw summer in his eyes, and that was the thing that made me accept his impulsive, desperate proposal of ignorance and being together.

**abc.**

**"Possession", by Sarah McLachlan. **

**abc.**

It was in a quiet way -- in a tone that he tried to keep at a whisper, but his voice would crack from what I liked to think was this passionate deposition -- that he asked me to forget about what had happened, to turn a blind eye to the weeks we went without talking, to the night he left and when he said I meant nothing to him.

"Ignorance is bliss, they say, yeah? So, let's forget about it all, act as if it never happened," At the time I knew it was the worst idea, possible, for this situation, but with his eyes that warm hazel colour, with some foreign highlights in them that almost resembled honey -- I couldn't refuse anything he would say, even if he had been doubting us and our ability to be anything around other people.

"We could move on, I think, and we could be happy, and together, and all of those ridiculously overused things," There were two powers, just then, swaying my response. James's summer eyes, and the bitter cold of the evening, and of the snow. Laying there in the snow was some sort of strange reality, and staring into his eyes offered _possibility_, the future.

"Here? We could be happy and together...Here? I spend most of my time starving for some freedom, to get out of here. I've never needed it like this before, but after almost seven years, I think it's catching up to me -- I need _out_, and I can't often think of anything else. It's you and leaving that's on my mind most of the time. What would be different about us making it official? The nights spent in one another's bed would be more frequent?"

I sat up, too, knowing there was snow in my hair, and knowing my nose was red, and knowing that I could very well fall apart in front of him, right then, but too determined and curious to leave.

"Why don't you just say yes, and why don't you just...Be my girlfriend, Lily?"

It was a small step, I thought, to everyone else in the entire world, but to us it was monumental, almost, and I actually caught myself tilting my head, and staring at him, thinking he might tell me he loved me. We always seemed a bit beyond that, though. It wasn't often that I found myself hanging around considering the way I felt about James. I knew how I felt about him, and I knew how he felt about me, and it was something we didn't speak of for a long, long time. It just came upon us, and we fell into it, and there was nothing as natural as this, nothing.

Almost regretting it, almost knowing the outcome of it before I'd even said it -- I folded my hands in my lap, and I bent my head down, not looking into his face as I said it, and I told James Potter I'd be his girlfriend, even though I hated the label, something classier would be nice. The grin on his face was welcome, and unmistakable as we sat there, together, each of us cross-legged, and each of us cold, and wet.

It was something, I mused, that there had been betrayal and weeks and letters unfinished, yet here we were. It didn't seem important then, none of it did.

James's hands were warm and he rested them on my thighs, leaning close and staring at my lips for a full minute before kissing them, slowly, as if it were an occupation of his for which he got paid very well.

There would never be anything like this, happy or sad, alive or dead. We were stupid and hopeless, aware and lethargic, loving and bitter --

We were, decidedly, Lily and James. And then, it's all we thought we would ever need.

**abc.  
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**Okay, so this chapter didn't take as long to get up as the last. It actually doesn't feel like that long at all, because I've actually been working on it so steadily. I, litterally, just finished it, and I realize it's 1:30 in the morning where I live, and I should consider things and read through them better before just uploading them, but it's part of what I enjoy about writing. **

I hope you like it, and I hope you will enjoy this sickeningly sweet happiness, for who knows how long it will last. You are all amazing readers and reviewers, and I would, obviously, be nothing without you.

Thanks so, so much. Lyrics on my livejournal, as usual.

Kaitlyn.


	23. Misery Loves Company

**Chapter 23  
**"Misery Loves Company"

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_**"Good News", by Something Corporate.  
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**abc.  
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We turned in early that night, at least from one another, as James had a Quidditch game the next morning, at 9 o'clock, and it was no good for the captain to show up exhausted. So, we walked back to the castle, awkwardly wondering whether to reach for the other's hand or not, and by the time we arrived at the foot of the staircase, leading to the girls dormitory, we hadn't even spoke, let alone touched one another. 

It was he who broke the inevitable silence -- though, not by speaking. By running a hand back through his hair, and grinning at me in a way that might be considered bashful, but when it was coming from him and directed to me -- Well, it was just charming. Unbelievably charming.

"Good luck in the morning, alright?" I smiled, so widely that my cheeks hurt after a moment. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

"You're coming to watch." It was a statement, not a question, at which I laughed, shaking my head a bit. I did not like Quidditch. For the first couple of years at Hogwarts, it was a kind of a given to be amazed by it, and to support your house team, but after more than six long years of going through the same old house rivalries -- I was growing tired of it. I was growing tired of it, and of Hogwarts, and of so many aspects of this life. Now and again I found myself dying for that simple, Muggle life I had once led. There was none of this dying, none of this flying, none of this falling -- This falling in love, in life, in lies.

I was just a little girl when I left that world, and I wondered if it changed much. They always say, for one reason or another, that you can't go home, and I never really understood it until I tried it. Over the Holidays, seeing that 'For Sale' sign on the lawn, knowing that the house was now sold -- You really _can't_ go home, because you change so much that it's painful.

"No, I'm afraid I'm not coming to the game." You'd've thought I had slapped him, or called him a particularly rude name, by the look on his face. He looked positively ashamed of my existence for a moment, and then he held his head high, and raised his eyebrows, demanding in such an airy tone that I wasn't sure it even was a demand.

"Yes, you are."

**abc.**

There are worse people in the world, I thought as I made my way to breakfast early that Saturday morning. The sky was grey, yet there was the distinct offering of sunlight. It was February 1st, I realized, and we were entering the final stages of winter. Lately it had been so close, spring -- It had been so close that you could _smell_ it easily, wafting through the cold, stale winter air. We needed that to survive, maybe. Needed to know that there was something different, something warmly familiar on the horizon, because somedays it was like we would live in this slow, dark season for the rest of our lives.

But there are worse things than winter. And there are worse people in the world than Remus Lupin. The first time I thought it, it felt like I was convincing myself of it, rather than just simply thinking it.

He was there at breakfast, with the _Morning Prophet_, sitting alone at the middle of the table, though there were people here and there, at the ends. It was as if he created his own barrier, his own little bubble, and not a soul could penetrate that.

I stood there, chewing the inside of my mouth, seriously wondering whether he may have come up with some magical force to keep people away, and seriously wondering what would happen to me if I dared to sit down by him. He intimidated me sometimes. Not all of the time, and not often -- But sometimes, times like these, when he looked so grown-up, and beyond the rest of us, he intimidated me. What with his paper, and his coffee, and the premature wrinkles on his forehead -- I thought he might have lived many lives, and it impressed me. Remus impressed me with his intimidation, and I was such a _stupid_ girl when it came to him.

"I'd really like it if you'd stop looming over my shoulder, and if that means you have to sit down, then so be it. Just quit _hovering_." He startled me, and it was obvious, as he rolled his eyes and laid his paper down, looking at me, and my slumped-shoulder posture, my barely-brushed hair, and my wide-eyed stare.

I sat down next to him, and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He had picked his _Prophet_ back up and absent-mindedly reached for the pitcher of juice, passing it to me as if he were a polite boy who did this often. I thanked him, poured the juice in my goblet, and was sipping on it, slowly, when he spoke in a casual murmur.

"There've been more attacks, according to this,"

He drew my attention with this, and I turned to him, frowning as I continued to drink. And he continued, talking in that cool, nonchalant tone, as if this were an every day occurance.

"Hmm, they're getting 'more frequent, more violent, and more deadly'. Lovely news, that is."

It struck me, then, with a small smile to my face -- that likely made me appear a touch insane, after the news he just delievered -- that there were, indeed, worse people in the world than Remus, who in fact might just become one of the best during these tough, tough times.

Swallowing a bit of pride, or perhaps a bit of uncertainty, I bit my lip, and looked around to be sure that I was right in thinking neither Sirius nor Peter were going to show up soon.

"They say misery loves company," Remus cocked an eyebrow at me, his expression blank, and his mouth set, straight. I continued, looking away from the sandy-haired Disaster. "So, how 'bout you and I go watch that damned Quidditch game together?"

**abc.**

We left the castle a bit early for the game, because we were both quite set on avoiding a crowd of laughing, cheering people. Sometimes it was just nice to be quiet. Sometimes it was just nice to have someone there with you during that quiet, whether that someone be a lover or an once-enemy.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, squinting as the sun, now brighter and stronger, reflected off of the snow, and glared into my eyes. The sun, I thought, what an odd thing. It would be a pleasure to feel warmth again.

As I thought, I stopped walking for a moment, as Remus was a few steps behind me, anyway, and I just wanted to _feel_ this unforgettable atmosphere. I closed my eyes, and just breathed a bit. It was quite something, this place called Hogwarts. There was snow, faded grass, wind, and the sun all at once -- Enough to envigorate the senses, all of which seemed to have gone numb and forgot of sweet aromas and warmer days, and I thought, maybe, we all changed with the seasons.

Then, with no warning or reason at all, I felt a gentle _thud_ against my back and something damp was splattered onto my coat -- A snowball.

I turned around and looked at Remus, with a furrowed brow and a sort of disbelieving smile, as he shrugged his shoulders, dropped the remainder of the snow he had in his hand, and walked ahead of me.

"_God_, Lily," He said, a bit mockingly. "You don't have to be so _serious_ all the time."

When he turned around, he was smiling a crinkly-eyed smile. It was startling, actually -- to the point that the smile fell from my own face, and I just stared at him, my hands at my sides -- how different, how _better_ he looked when he grinned like that.

A vibrance sprung into his features, and he looked like such a boy, such a _child_. His eyes had a sort of glint to them, a sort of life that I never really knew Remus was capable of. There was a relief about those lovely blue eyes, an unfamiliar thing. They were framed by a set of thick, pale lashes, yet he was still, somehow, the epitome of masculinity, just then. He was tall and lean and his sandy-brown hair was mussed up, thanks to the wind. Remus was a breath of fresh air, I thought, as I walked forward, and grasped his gloved hand in my own, tugging him along toward the pitch.

**abc.**

The evening had faded swiftly and gracefully, like it did at this time of year. The night began to press in around us, offering it's blind comfort, and I thought it was funny, how your senses seemed to heighten at night. Your eyes adjust to the expanse of black sky, and you seem to hear every single thing -- Things that may seem normal during the day, are now potentially terrifying, and you sit there with your heart racing, trying to calm yourself, and forget about it. Forget about the noise and the looming shadows, and how inadequate you feel in the dark. You blink, and widen your eyes and try so hard to see just a bit further, because _what if_ there's something or someone there. You pull the covers over your head, or if you're outside, you don't even breathe, as you strain to hear what you think is the inevitable Mad Man with an axe, standing just behind you.

My imagination always ran a bit wild during dark, starless nights like these. And that's why I didn't understand my love for them. I didn't understand how I could find myself sitting high up in the Quidditch stands, with a boy I hardly liked, the only light in the smothering darkness was the the dull, orange glow of the end of his cigarette, and faroff lights in the windows of the castle. Funny, I thought, how that castle appeared years away from here.

"Do you want a drag or somethin'?" Remus offered the cigarette from his mouth, sounding as if this was a last resort, as we had just been sitting, and he had been smoking, and the silence had been swallowing.

"No," I shook my head, my gloved hands gripping the bench I sat on, positioned on either side of my legs.

"Do you want...your own?" He asked, sounding perplexed and going to pull his pack from his pocket, but I stopped him by shaking my head, again, and laughing softly.

"Is it so hard to believe that I just want to sit here with you, silence or not?"

Through the dark, I imagined he was raising his eyebrows at me, and he was sitting close enough that I could feel him shrug his shoulders.

"Each to their own, I suppose. You're really holdin' on to this 'misery loves company' thing, aren't you?" Remus asked it, like he thought it was something I was clinging to -- Like it was all that I had. The tone of his voice could've been a bit gentler than what he normally used, but perhaps he was just trying to suit the night, like I was. If you were too loud you couldn't hear all of those noises that drove you partially insane. If you were too loud, you couldn't enjoy this fleeting pause from the rest of your life.

Gryffindor had won the Quidditch game, against Hufflepuff, which seemed somehow irrelevant to me, and even to him. We had sat, and we had watched the whole thing, cheering and shouting, yet now that it was over -- It just seemed a way to pass the time, a way to recognize that things were slowly, but surely, drawing to their end.

We parted at Dinner-- He disappeared when I went to the Great Hall, starving, due to the fact I had missed Lunch. Remus had the right idea, though, because the whole table was full and praise for the team never ceased. James was enjoying it, and I sat near him, not next to him, because he was crowded enough as it was, glad that he was grinning so damned widely. I hadn't spoke to him since the night before, and as the celebration continued after dinner, I didn't really expect to.

Remus had made his emergence at the party in the Gryffindor common room, only to clap his friend on the back as congratulations, give a nod to Sirius -- who had consumed so much alcohol, he had people wondering where this large stock of his was kept -- and declare he was going for a smoke. He didn't invite me, he didn't say a thing to me, but his gaze passed over me as he tugged his coat on and straightened his lapels, and I found that invitation enough.

It was something after nine, as we sat there, and smoke blew from his mouth, the grey of it contrasting with the dark sky, and I leaned my head back, watching it float up and away from us. I wondered why he started smoking. He had his eyes shut, and he rubbed the bridge of his nose, as the cigarette stuck from the corner of his mouth. It illuminated his face in an odd sort of way, and the shadows that played over his features didn't seem much out of the ordinary. It was as if Remus Lupin was always hidden by shadows or secrets or something mysterious like that.

"Why are you out here?" I asked him, quietly, folding my hands in my laps, and staring out over the pitch, and the grounds leading up to the castle. I was sure I could see a figure moving, with ease, through the dark.

Remus sighed, and didn't answer. I thought he might state the obvious, he was smoking, but he didn't, because that really wasn't the reason why he was out here. Any other time he would want a smoke, he'd just open a window in the boys dorm, and stick his head out of it. There was something on his mind, I observed, silently, and I had a feeling -- a horrible, burning sinking feeling -- in the pit of my stomach that it had something to do with me and James. He knew, I realized, and it was supposed to be such a nice, lovely thing to have declared -- A relationship with James Potter, but I felt a bit sick when I thought about anybody finding out, under the circumstances. Under these complicated, twisted circumstances. I was afraid Remus may make me regret it.

"I don't know. The same reason you are, I think." Came his murmured reply, after a minute or two. He had leaned back, and stuffed his hands into the pocket of his coat, having trodden on the cigarette and thrown it down over the side.

I parted my lips, and took a deep breath of the cold, stinging air, and let it back out slowly. Things were frost-covered and motionless and this could have been magical, I thought. If there were stars to be seen, if the moon wasn't more than a sliver, and if the boy sitting next to me wasn't Remus.

Remus stood up, as a noise issued from below, and he gave me a long, hard stare, directly in the eye. He was unblinking and lean and undeniably attractive, as he spoke, stirring something stange within me.

"I hope it's worth it, you know, Lily," Remus paused, and drew himself up to his full height as he breathed in, deeply, and released it as a sigh. He flipped his collar out, to shield him a bit more from the cold, and he dug his hands deeper in his pockets, looking as if he were trying to bury himself away inside of his coat.

"The two of you...getting together," He was sure to avoid calling it a relationship, as if both of us were far too different, or far too ridiculous to be involved in one, especially together. "Because it's just so mixed up, isn't it? Yeah, I honestly do hope it's worth it."

"Does Sirius know?" I asked in a hushed voice, my eyes wide, my body tense as it was evident somebody was climbing the up the stand, to join us.

Remus laughed, not bothering to keep it quiet.

"James isn't stupid, Lily. Of course Sirius doesn't know." To my dismay Remus sat down again, as James, of course, appeared -- A strange cutout against the night.

"Hey." He greeted us, breathlessly, taking his wand out, lighting it, and grinning cheekily. "Bloody cold out here! Why'd you leave the festivities?" He gave off the vague impression of a boy who had drank just enough alcohol to make things a bit dim and fuzzy, and he seemed to just glow with warmth -- From the apples of his crimson cheeks, down to his unfastened cloak and bare hands.

"I don't know," Remus said slowly, with lidded eyes, and lethargic movements. "Why'd you leave?"

James's grin widened, and his eyes seemed to light up a bit, but that could've just been the beam from his wand.

"Oh, well, I didn't want to," He moved his shoulders as if he were trying to get comfortable, and then he plopped down on the seat, next to me, putting myself in the middle of the two Marauders. "See, things are just getting interesting. It's funny, because it's usually the Slytherin beatings we celebrate, but now we celebrate anything, Hufflepuff included. Peter just fell off the wagon. 'Member how he said he wasn't going to drink anything, ever again, after what Sirius did to him the last time he passed out? I'm looking forward to this."

"Again, then, why'd you leave if things are just getting interesting?" Remus continued their conversation, sounding as if he were about to fall asleep, whereas James sounded like he was raring to go all night.

"I wanted to come see Lily." James said, simply, and that was answer enough for Remus, who didn't speak further after that. James laid his wand, which was still lit, down on the seat and it managed to provide a bit more light than Remus's cigarette had.

It an effortless move, James put his arm around me, draping it over my shoulders, and the slight weight it offered was warm and satisfying. Everything about him, sometimes, was warm and satisfying, but I found him especially endearing when he was like this -- Drinking and charming and nonchalant as hell.

Just as a contented sort of sigh left my lips, I turned my head to look at James, and though I thought since we seemed absolutely _made_ for each other -- I was particularly optimistic that night, for some reason -- that he may meet my gaze halfway, and we'd share a sweet, affectionate smile, he didn't. He was staring straight ahead, and I could see the glowing light the torches in the castle offered reflected in both the lens' of his glasses, and in his breathtaking hazel eyes. It was as good as a smile, I figured.

I then turned to look at Remus, almost feeling that stormy, blue stare of his, and was right in my thinking. It wasn't an intent sort of look, it was just one that said he was observing me, observing us, and he just seemed so tired, suddenly. As if the day had been far too long for him to endure, and just as I opened my mouth to suggest he go inside, he stood up and called James's attention.

"Listen, I've got a girl to meet. _So_, I'll see you two later." He offered a slight grin and a wink to James, and then he made the trek back toward the castle, leaving the two of us sitting there, as if we were in our right minds.

James squeezed my arm, slightly, and I looked away from Remus's retreating form, wholeheartedly appreciate of James's relaxed and smiling features.

"Not jealous are you, Lil? Don't believe him, Remus likes _boys_."

I chuckled, softly, finding myself leaning in closer to him, as if somehow drawn to the boy and that unidentifiable aroma that wafted over me and my senses.

"Each to their own." I murmured in reply, repeating the words Remus had said to me but a few minutes before, and I swaying, gently, until my head came into contact with his lovely, broad shoulder, and it was apparent to me all I was capable of, all that I could accomplish then was breathing, to just breathe.

Because James Potter was, possibly, everything I'd ever know, or want, or see that night. It didn't matter, much, that Remus knew about us, because what fun would it be if nobody knew? And Sirius was as good as forgotten between the two of us, it felt, and it was so strange to me, so unbelievably strange to me -- How complete I felt, for even a brief moment or two. It was as if things were going to be just fine, there was reassurance wrapped up in James, and the dark sky, and it was comfort.

Blind, blind comfort.

**abc.**

**"Breathe (2 AM)", by Anna Nalick.**

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Hi. Well. Okay. I didn't _mean_ to finish this chapter. It just kind of...finished itself. That sounded riciulous, but it's true. Oh my goodness, it's...quite short. I just felt so odd and inadequate after February began, and my exams ended. I just felt the need to...write something good and fresh and just try to motivate myself and move on, a bit. So, that's what this chapter is. It's motivation. It's this...ray of sunshine, if you will. It's a nice, slow chapter, and things are just...Building a bit. I know it might not seem like there's a lot to look forward to, after this chapter ended. But...Lily has to deal with the Sirius issue. And Lily has to deal with the fact that James told Remus. There wasn't a lot of depth about that, and yeah. I always tire myself out when I try to justify my writing, LoL. God, I just like writing about Lily and James together, even if they're just _sitting_ together.

As _always_, you guys are the best, most amazing reviewers, ever. I love and appreciate you all so much, and you may grow weary of reading my monotonous 'thanks', but I don't know what else to say. You guys keep me going, and please continue. And, as usual, the lyrics will be on my livejournal.

All the best, Kaitlyn.


	24. Afterglow

**Chapter 24  
**"Afterglow"

**abc.**

**"Afterglow", by Vanessa Carlton.**

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It was a week later -- a long, exhausting week later -- on a mild Saturday, that I walked through Hogsmeade, my hands in my coat pockets and my head bent against the cool wind. It was typical February weather -- A combination of snow and sun, mild and cool, rain and frost. The seasons were in a sort of limbo for a couple of weeks before the complete transition into Spring. And those couple of weeks, leading up to, were exhilarating.

An energy hits you when the weather turns nice -- You just seem to perk up, your cheeks are always coloured and you feel like you're breathing easier, like you're more alive. If I just survive this, survive this prelude to Spring, then maybe I'll make it, afterall.

I was waiting for a good day, I thought as I walked, a day when the tension eases and the frustration subsides and you're just left with an afterglow, of sorts. Like memories only more fleeting and it makes everything shine for a moment. It's an emotion, perhaps, that afterglow -- Satisfaction and hope and nostalgia and it sent shivers up my spine just thinking of it. I was always so convinced that afterglow, that freedom was what I needed and I expected that from June and graduating, but I couldn't've known then what was to come and it was better that way -- To live with the impression of freedom and innocence for even a short time.

There was something about me lately, something about my thoughts and appearance that just made me realize I was getting older. However reluctant I was to realize that fact, it was evident in the way I spoke and in the way I held myself and if it wasn't so terrifying I thought I'd be happy about it, about growing up.

I was alone in Hogsmeade that weekend and it was with an easy defeat that I admitted it -- I was alone because of James, of course. I was with him more when we weren't in any sort of official relationship and now that we were I felt as if there were expectations to meet.

We didn't speak much throughout the week, briefly checking in with one another during the evenings and during the time the common room was at it's fullest. He'd disappear to his dormitory before 8 o'clock, usually, or he would be out practicing Quidditch, so we didn't even do our homework together. I thought maybe I should be disappointed with the way things were already shaping up, but to be honest I never really knew what to expect out of it, out of a relationship with him. It was modest, but I was just glad to have something with him.

He was moody and irritating that morning, and it reminded me of a five year old who was constantly starving for attention and coming up with new ways to get that attention. I wondered what it would be like when he finally grew up a bit. I didn't imagine he could change too much more, but perhaps when he lost that need of his to always be so cold and distant, and that reckless immaturity he expressed at times -- Well, I realized, he'd just be such a _good_ man when that happened and it was a bit breathtaking to think about _being_ with him when it did.

I stopped my aimless walking for a moment and looked up from the slushy sidewalk, noticing other students making their way toward the Three Broomsticks after a long day of shopping. There was a dusky glow to the sky that told of the evening impending and it was hard not to be content, right then.

As I turned to go into the Three Broomsticks, as well, I gave the twilight bathed streets one more look and when I did so I noticed a scuffle that had broke out in the middle of the street. The light was strange right then and there were dark shadows cast down over the faces of whoever was doing the fighting, and if I hadn't been so sure I recognized the form of one of them I would've turned away.

I hurried over to the scene where people were starting to gather, and I pushed by the crowd in order to get a good look at the bloodied boy who was sprawled out on the wet ground, at the feet of his attacker. It wasn't until the other boy, slightly taller but with the same lean build and casual stance, kicked him that I realized who it was and it was with a gasp and a hand over my mouth that I did so.

"Sirius!" He didn't hear me and I frantically searched the faces of those around me, with some half-hearted hope that James would be there and immediately come to the rescue.

The familiarity between Sirius and the other boy finally struck me when he collapsed on the ground, catching his breath, not at all concerned of Sirius retaliating because he was in too bad of shape -- It was Regulus doing the beating on his own brother.

"If you're not helping, then get the hell out of here." I heard myself shouting to the useless crowd of mostly seventh year students, an odd Slytherin or two egging Regulus on, as I pushed my way back through and searched up and down the street looking for help.

Remus Lupin was the only person I could think of, because if James hadn't ventured out to Hogsmeade earlier in the afternoon, he'd definitely not be there this late. And it was due to some sort of magic or strange coincidence that when I turned my head left once again to look up the street, I saw a head full of sandy hair coming in my direction.

I shouted his name and instantly caught his attention, and the look on his face told he was expecting something like this, expecting there was something happening.

"It's Sirius," I told him breathlessly, running toward him and then pointing to the middle of the street where the fight was taking place. He barely waited for me to finish my next sentence before he was running, feet sliding, to the middle of the commotion.

"Regulus is beating the shit out of him."

For a moment there were just spells flying and fists punching and boys cussing, before the crowd finally thinned and I could see what was happening again. Sirius appeared to have had passed out, his nose protruding at an odd angle as it bled and his eye swollen and bruised and I wondered why he didn't have his wand, I wondered why he hadn't been fighting back -- Any other time he would have.

"You're out of your minds." I shouted at Regulus and Remus, my voice shaking and Remus's wand hand shaking as he prepared to blast another one at the youngest Black brother.

Fumbling in my pocket for my own wand, I muttered to myself and had every intention of hexing Regulus, until he seemed to quickly become aware of me standing there, just helplessly watching, and turned his wand on me.

All I could remember thinking as Regulus prepared to curse me was that I hoped Remus bashed his bloody face in.

**abc.**

It was several hours later, after midnight I assumed, that I woke in a bed, in the Hospital Wing. The first thing I thought of was what a waste of a Saturday evening it had been. Even if I grew tired of James's behaviour, I wouldn't mind hauling him off to his dormitory and making out with him. I sat up quickly, that thought in my head and I think I actually planned on doing it, until I realized how groggy I felt.

Groaning, I tugged my feet from the blankets and the tight hospital corner they had been tucked into, frowning as my feet hit the cold floor and I realized they were bare. And my attire -- A white nightgown that was certainly not my own. I vaguely recalled waking up at some point, only to have Madam Pomfrey shove more potion down my throat, so I thought I must've changed into the nightgown then. It made sense to be dressed in something cool, though, because I felt as if I were burning up, from the inside out. The very blood in my veins could've been boiling, I swore it, and the gown was plastered to my back, soaked in a cold sweat.

I thought, if I was brought to the Hospital Wing and kept unconscious, because of whatever spell Regulus had used on me, then the two Marauders must've been here, seeming the shape Sirius had already been in before I was knocked out. I peered around the room, squinting through the dark, padding over the floor and checking each bed until I realized that neither of them were there. Though there was one other bed with the sheets messed up, nobody was in it.

Suddenly weak and weary, I sat down on the floor and sat there, my sweaty skin sticking to the cool surface and it was a comfort. The same sort of comfort I had found in James but a week before and I felt so lame and useless, having lost my boyfriend before I even had a chance to fall in love with him or something as equally romantic. I wasn't the type of girl that knew what to do with boyfriend's and I was such a child when it came to things like this. Scared of saying the wrong thing or saying anything at all -- Scared of losing him but scared of hanging on long enough to find out what I'd be losing.

It was pathetic, really, and I wondered if as my boyfriend he should've been sitting beside my bed when I woke up. Maybe so, but as James Potter -- Likely not. He seemed to do things on his own terms when it came to relationships and I hoped it would all be worth it, echoing the thought Remus had voiced not too long ago. _I hope it's worth it, you know, Lily. The two of you getting together._

I knew that I'd continue to be restless and unsure of things until Sirius finally knew. He wasn't a daft boy and after a week, perhaps Remus had said something, or even James. But I felt responsible and I didn't think I could ever feel _good_ about James until there was a kind of approval granted by Sirius, his best mate. It seemed unlikely, but sitting down with him and blatantly laying it out for him was the best thing I thought I could do.

As quietly as I could I gathered my things from the end of my bed, knowing if Madam Pomfrey had dosed off in her office, it wouldn't be for long and I couldn't just sit around in the Hospital Wing all night sweating and worrying.

Putting my coat on over the ankle-length, long sleeved, flowing nightgown and carrying my shoes -- with the socks shoved in them -- in my hand, I tiptoed down the corridor away from the Hospital Wing and I held my breath as I pushed open one of the double doors, hoping they wouldn't make a sound. I didn't know why I thought at this hour I could be doing anything about the situation, but there was something about my heavy head that caused me to disregard any rational thinking.

Something else that caused me to disregard any rational thinking, as I climbed staircases making the long journey to Gryffindor Tower, was the sight of him sitting there against a wall, light from surrounding windows washing down over him. And he was always such a welcome sight, even all battered and bruised.

**abc.**

**"How to Save a Life", by the Fray.**

**abc.**

"You running away, too?" Sirius broke the swallowing silence of the dark corridor and I wondered what his question meant. I was running away from the Hospital Wing, yes, but I thought maybe I'd always be running away from _something_.

"'Spose you could say that." I replied, conversationally, as I stepped closer to him, keeping as quiet as I possibly could, not for fear that someone would catch us, but because I wanted to hear when someone did come to catch us -- It was thrilling, somehow.

"Pity you got cursed when you did, you missed the beating Moony gave dear ol' Reg." And he didn't sound grateful at all, he sounded bitter and full of resentment. I didn't know whether it be for Remus or Regulus, or perhaps both of them. Sirius wasn't one to _lose_, he wasn't one to lay around all bleeding and helpless, just watching things. He was a take action sort of bloke and I thought he should just swallow his pride on this one.

His nose and elbow were both broken and he had bruised ribs, he told me as I stood there with a throbbing head and shoes in my hand. I never once thought to ask what the fight was about.

The nightgown I wore was see through despite my coat being on over it, and I knew that Sirius was looking but I managed to feel flattered rather than embarrassed and I wondered if he'd still look at me that way -- with some sort of unsuppressed desire or admiration -- after I told him about James. I didn't think I could handle him looking at me as if he were disgusted with me, but it was a risk I decided to take.

So, I told him, there in a drafty corridor at midnight. It was quiet and I did it with a courage that I hoped he would respect and understand -- If that would be all he'd understand out of what I said.

"I'm with James now," I had said and waited with bated breath before Sirius made any sort of attempt to acknowledge I had spoke. A slight nod of his head was what he was going for, but it turned into more of just letting his head drop slightly, in disappointment or perhaps just utter exhaustion of the situation.

"It's only been about a week and it's not like things are really established yet. We're just kind of aloof right now and I don't know when or if we'll ever get things working, but I thought you should know."

With a sudden spike of curiosity, I tilted my head and looked down at him with what I liked to think was a warm gaze -- I wondered if it felt like a dagger to the heart. I wondered if I had just mutilated what was left of his and James's friendship, by thinking I was doing the _right_ thing in telling him. Maybe I should have let it come out on it's own, maybe I should have waited until James felt comfortable with letting him know -- And _why_ couldn't've I considered any of this beforehand? Why did I seem to enjoy watching this otherwise strong boy with lovely grey eyes get hurt?

I sunk down next to him, drawing my knees to my chest and hugging my legs tightly, resting my chin atop of them and staring at him, without blinking. It was peculiar, how this castle was unimaginably large and populated, yet you could find yourself alone, in absolute seclusion much of the time. I felt the sting of that solitude while I sat there with him, the dampness of the air seeping into my bones and making me feel so brittle and inept.

"Maybe you're thinking I'm going to sit here and act heartbroken, but I won't, because we're just friends, the two of us," Sirius spoke hoarsely and in a restrained manner, keeping his jaw as still as possible for I assumed he was still in pain.

"I figured it was only a matter of time and honestly, good for you. I'm just curious as to whether or not I get to still be James's best mate or if I'm meant to make a sacrifice so that the two of you can be happy. It's all a bit unstable, is all."

There was nothing I could say or do to improve things, for I had already meddled for far too long and I just looped my arm through his, and sat quietly with him for a few moments, before softly urging him to return to the Hospital Wing, in case of some sort of side-effect or complication. We didn't want that broken nose of his going crooked, I said as I helped him up from the floor, putting my shoes on while I did, and he agreed -- Saying he always did have a rather fantastic profile. No, Sirius, you aren't meant to make any sacrifices for us and I should've told him that, told him how truly good he was.

I realized that night that I always wanted Sirius in my life and I never wanted to have him abandoned, he already had a family that was worthless to him and his friends, his best mates were everything to him and I needed to leave that, I needed him to become one of those friends to me, one of those irreplaceable friends. Maybe I would understand it then.

Sirius returned to the Hospital Wing and had left me standing at the double doors, for I said I didn't want to get caught by Madam Pomfrey and be forced back into bed. He had simply nodded and turned his back on me, walking away slightly hunched over and with his arm stiff at his side. I realized he didn't really put much faith in anybody, he never relied much on anybody. He never had any reason to and I wondered if that made him lonely or just the smartest person I knew.

**abc.**

The Common Room was dark and quiet when I returned to it, books and papers and other things laying about, proof of the life that had been there during the day. The fire was burning low, providing little warmth, though that's all that was needed for the uncommonly temperate night.

I felt a sense of accomplishment and insignificance, standing there looking around at the mess that I was likely responsible for, because, I reminded myself as I did every day, I was the Head Girl.

Telling Sirius had been what I intended to do, and therefore I had accomplished one thing that day. One rather important thing. But I didn't know why I thought it mattered so much, I didn't know why I thought I mattered so much and I was sure it would have gone unnoticed, my relationship with James, if I had just left it. There was far too much drama and I wondered if I just created it all for some sort of diversion from the rest of my life.

I was tired and weak and hoping it was a smart idea for me to leave the Hospital Wing, though I wasn't sure what potion I had been fed or what side-effects it might have. There was a sort of pressure, a sort of intensity somewhere within me that made me think that fight, that grapple between two brothers in the middle of the street was more than that. It worried me, to be honest, because I felt like there was some grey area, some unknown that could bring it all crashing down.

Throwing my coat over the arm of a chair I went over to the hearth and the sofas surrounding it, thinking I should go to James's dormitory, thinking I should go back to the Hospital Wing -- Thinking and not doing, like I always, _always _seemed to do and it was frustrating to be so preoccupied with one's own thoughts.

"Lily."

His voice was like a sudden jolt back to where I was and what I was doing and I blinked a few times through the dark, making out his vague outline, sitting on the sofa I was standing near.

He shot his wand at the fireplace, standing up as the flames roared back to life and he looked at me with eyes so warm that I wasn't entirely sure he was the same boy. It was the most satisfying thing I had felt the entire evening.

"James, hi." I said and couldn't find the strength to be angry with him, though somewhere in the back of my mind I thought he should have been there and he should have had concern for his friend. I was angry at him for the way he had been acting the whole week, but it was hardly relevant as his eyes swept over me.

"I'm glad you're all right. Remus told me what had happened. And I just," A hand went to his hair and he pulled it back harshly. "I'm glad you're all right."

He moved closer to kiss me and I saw right into his flickering hazel eyes, and I believed him so completely that I wanted to cry and yell at him all the same. I knew it wouldn't be the last time he'd say that, _I'm glad you're all right_. There was a lifetime's worth of concern for me in his gaze and the guilt I felt because of that was overpowered by, well, him.

Nothing about him was unchanging, save for the way he kissed. It was always very nice and very thorough, respectful and affectionate. Even when he was not any of those things, even when he changed from one minute to the next, there was always something reliable about him. And I think that's why I kept coming back, time after time.

I hated how badly I grew to need him, on late Saturday nights when the weather was nice.

"This nightgown is lovely." James said, pulling away from my mouth but keeping me close, running his fingers over the material of it covering my leg and I was reminded just why he and Sirius were friends.

And I had to wonder, as he clutched me to him, if Regulus Black had put me in more danger than I had even realized.

**abc.**

**"The City Lights", by Umbrellas.**

**abc.**

All I can possibly say for taking so long to update is that I'm sorry and that I still love writing this. I have no intention of stopping anytime soon, it just gets hard sometimes.

There are so many things I could concentrate on and blame for the amount of time it took me to write this, but none of them are really worth it. I just want you all to know before you review that this was so hard for me to get through and I don't need to feel anymore inadequate than I already do. I tried very, very hard to please and your opinion's are great, so I just hope it is liked. I appreciate you all.

Kaitlyn.


	25. Everything's Not Lost

**Chapter 25  
****"Everything's Not Lost"**

**abc. **

**"Amsterdam", by Coldplay.**

**abc.****  
**  
"I haven't been this lonely since Ray died." She had appeared behind me as I sat down to breakfast Wednesday morning, staring over at the tables where students were giving and receiving gifts and cards.

Bridget had been like that lately -- Abrupt and honest and everybody but her seemed to notice how depressing it was. On Sunday, when she heard what had happened between the Black brothers, she asked me if I was alright before saying "lucky nobody died" and it was a bit extreme, I thought, but she seemed quite serious. Perhaps that's what your mind does, though, after someone you love dies. Maybe all you can think of are the worst things. I couldn't imagine how destructive it must've been.

And I felt terrible for her that morning as she stood there, looking quite hopeless but somehow determined with her dark hair pulled back and her fringe pinned up, away from her face. I wasn't sure how someone so angry, someone who seemed to have had given up on absolutely everything -- I wasn't sure how she could look so lovely. With her pink lips and alabaster visage; dark eyes and high cheekbones. She was as pretty as a picture and she had such potential, I thought. But all she knew then was that it was Valentine's Day and she was all alone.

"It's just some stupid Holiday," I said, sliding down the bench to make room for her. "Nothing much to fuss about. The fireworks might be nice tonight, though."

Saying nothing, she ate some egg and toast and she knew that I was trying very hard to not care about it, to be as passive as possible, because I refused to have any expectations for James. It was just another day, another cold, bleak day and there would be fireworks tonight and that was enough.

As I looked up to the ceiling of the Great Hall, acting as the sky, I saw the slightest offering of blue behind grey clouds and as I left for my first class, I wondered what form hope would come in if it could come in one. I wondered if sunlight, blue skies and Spring would bring hope to all of the miserable people, all of the hardworking people and all of the uncertainty.

For a moment, I was sure, it would.

**abc.**

Word had gotten around about myself and James. The Head Boy and Girl and _oh,_ how ideal was that? It wasn't surprising that people were interested in James because it was a blatant fact -- James Potter was popular. Good-looking and talented and an arrogant prat, at times. It wasn't a wonder that in his early years at Hogwarts he would strut around the place, hexing people and boasting about his detentions. And somehow he had become Head Boy and it was wonderful to think he could change so drastically but still keep his core -- It was hard to believe someone was capable of that sort of self-revelation.

It was midday and I dwelled in the dormitory, thinking to myself and wary of setting off down to lunch. _Because _word had gotten around about the two of us, I felt -- Well, slightly more embarrassed than disappointed that I had yet to receive a word of hello from him let alone a dozen roses. There were cupids lurking around every corner and pink decorations floating in the air, and it became a bit overwhelming to have people more concerned than I was about whether I received a gift from him or not.

One girl loudly wondered to her friend, as I walked by, if I'd get a ring from him during the fireworks. I surpressed the need to make sure she knew we had barely been together a couple of _weeks_ and he hadn't even _looked_ at me yet that day.

I was standing in the middle of the room, my gaze unfocused and unblinking. Then my stomach gave a growl and I sighed, pulled my hair over one shoulder, braided it and left the dormitory, defeated.

The Common Room was, fortunately, deserted and I strode through it quickly, not paying any mind to my surroundings and pondering what to eat for lunch. I thought, maybe, I should have been more concerned about James and his whereabouts but lunch seemed more pressing right then.

"Wotcher, Lily!"

I spun around, knocking my knee hard into a chair, and searched for the source of the voice, which had came from behind me. My long braid whipped into my face as I balanced myself and saw his unmistakable form at the foot of the stairs leading to the boys dorm. There was a strange jolt in my gut that had nothing to do with hunger and I wrapped my arms around my middle as he approached me, feeling slightly anxious despite the grin upon his face.

"Bleeding _hell_," I murmured and he quirked an eyebrow taking this as my greeting, as I reached down to massage my throbbing knee and smooth the pleats in my plaid skirt as I straightened up. "Sorry, you gave me a start is all."

Sirius' grin widened and he always looked terribly handsome in his uniform, all buttoned up and with a tie around his neck. Putting his hands in the pockets of his slacks, he looked meek for a moment and then boldly met my eyes.

They had let him from the Hospital Wing on Sunday afternoon and he didn't talk too much about what happened, as one might have expected him to. People speculated about it and all Remus would say was that he received a month's worth of detention for the beating he had gave Regulus.

James hadn't said anything more about it, either, since the night it happened. From what Remus had told me, I figured that James had gone to see Sirius in the hospital and I worried that his, though not entirely uncharacteristic, distance with me over the next couple of days was because he found out that I had told Sirius about the two of us without talking to him first.

"D'you see my bruises? I look a bit tough, don't I? And my nose is still kind of massive," I wasn't sure I had ever seen him more proud and that was saying quite something, seeming he possessed more pride than most anyone I knew. "I think I look tough." He repeated and gestured to his nose again and it _was _protruding a bit more than normal and resembled, slightly, Severus Snape's nose -- I'd never tell him that -- and that nose, frankly, was not a tough look.

"Oh. I...are you all right, though? I mean," I faltered, though he never missed a beat and hung on to my incomplete sentence and I wished he wouldn't, for I was uncertain of what to say to him.

"You do look tough, honestly," I said, awkwardly, figuring it was what he wanted to hear. "Are you hurt, though?"

He was shaking his head before I finished my question and he rubbed his stubbly chin while he thought for a moment.

With a shrug he said, "I'm fine" and his hands returned to his pockets and there was some underlying tension to it all. I felt like he thought I was imposing or about to impose on something he wasn't able to deal with, so I just told him I was glad he wasn't hurt.

"My nose will look normal again. I've to take a potion to keep healing it, but it'll be as good as new." The bruises would fade soon, he said, and I wondered why it was suddenly so important to him to look tough -- Why it mattered that he still bore the marks from the fight with his brother, when before he would've wanted them gone as soon as possible.

I asked him quite slowly and quietly what it had been about, what had caused it all and his thick, brown hair fell into his ghostly grey eyes as he looked down at his feet.

"There are things happening, Lily, you know," he said, simply and matter-of-factly. "It's all about that stuff now," he continued and I found myself fiercely hoping Regulus looked as worn as Sirius did from their encounter. "I think it's far too complicated to really..."

When he trailed off and looked at me I just nodded and didn't press on. He was the type of boy who deserved to keep his dignity.

"Have you been speaking with James today? I've not seen him yet..." I asked, conversationally and there was a shift in the atmosphere between us and I knew he felt more comfortable with this topic -- Though I didn't.

When he nodded vigorously, I felt a stab of dread but forced a tight-lipped smile and pushed my hair behind my ears.

But very suddenly I felt very bitter -- I wasn't sure if it was toward James or Sirius or myself but as I dwelled on it, a taste formed in my mouth and I didn't know if it was just my imagination or not but it was foul upon my tongue and the look on my face contorted and then I was grumbling at him.

"Oh, so I suppose when he's speaking to you, he's not speaking to me. I felt so terrible when the two of you were at odds and sick with guilt, really, but it doesn't _matter_ because it's not like the daft,-"

Sirius cut me off and not in a polite way, but by putting his hand over my mouth and raising his eyebrows pointedly at me, indicating it best if I quit speaking now.

"Listen, don't worry about it, okay? James just...isn't the best at this sort of thing. All I mean is, I watched him destroy a relationship with Jocelyn, completely unaware of the fact, so because he's kind of messing up on Valentine's Day doesn't mean you should jump to any sort of conclusions."

I chewed the corner of my mouth when he dropped his hand from my lips, and I considered his words, abruptly realizing they didn't make me feel any better. Jocelyn had _died_, was all I thought and for some reason it seemed inappropriate of Sirius to even mention her.

There were no further words passed between us, just those of parting, and I hugged my arms back around me as I continued out of the Common Room, my mind buzzing and my knee aching and my heart thundering.

**abc.**

Thundering, I thought, stopping in the middle of the corridor and holding my breath. It somehow did sound like thunder, ringing through my head and my ears and I swore if someone was passing me in the dank hall they'd hear it, as well.

I was frantic for a moment, deciding I needed to find James and to tell him I had heard my heart sound like thunder, like he had that day -- That day you asked me to be your girlfriend, do you remember, James? I just was walking and heard it and I thought of you instantly...

Rounding a corner as I thought of what I'd say to him, what I'd like to say to him, I collided into somebody -- A somebody with a rather hard chest and I figured it was him or hoped it was him because I just _wanted_ him so desperately, then.

"Was wondering what you might be up to," he murmured as we took our respective steps back from one another and he fixed his glasses as I clenched my clammy hands at my sides.

Oh, it didn't matter that he hadn't spoke to me until noon on Valentine's Day, I thought as I looked to his bespectacled eyes. It's just some stupid Holiday, I repeated to myself as I had to Bridget that morning, it didn't matter that he was a bit incompetent with it all. We were so fresh and all that really mattered was that he hadn't...Hadn't done something drastic, I thought, but completely unable to tell him any of it. The windows to the left filtered in a dull light that washed over us and my hands looked pale and he had never looked so appealing.

"My heart was just thundering," I told him, rather breathlessly and ashamed of the fact, for I didn't find it any fair that he had such an ability to turn me into mush yet he, himself, could stand there completely unaffected. I was sure it meant I was a bit hopeless and not that he was heartless.

"It was so funny, I was just walking along and realized it sounded as thunder and I thought...I thought of you and then ran into you, and..." I stumbled over my words thinking he'd have something to say, that he'd save me from my floundering but he just stood there and I felt quite helpless as if I were drowning and he would rather watch than recuse.

He cleared his throat after a minute and the corner of his eyes crinkled as a smile passed over his features. Relief flooded through me and I moved toward him without waiting to hear anything he might've had to say, instead wrapping myself up in him and breathing deeply against his neck.

It was a bit before he moved and when he did I found myself -- in a motion that was quite fluid and graceful -- pressed against the stone wall and he felt so feverish against my lips.

The sudden contact with the cool, rough stone sent goose bumps along my skin and he seemed to be following them with his fingertips, over my legs and neck. I didn't believe he had ever kissed me like this or even thought to kiss me like this before the very moment he did it.

He was different in that moment, James was. We were in a corridor and I was pressed against a wall and he had some _fascination_ with my bottom lip. One hand rested against the wall, beside my face and the other was on my just injured knee that might have been bruised but when he touched it, I felt alive and there was something _wrong _but I couldn't care -- _who could?_ -- when he was kissing me like that.

"All right, Lily," James said, as he pulled away from me, in a voice that was slightly deeper than usual but quite composed when compared to my rapid breathing.

A hand instantly flew to his untidy black hair as we parted from one another and he rumpled it and his cheeks were pink and his gaze was burning. I frowned, tilting my head as scrutinized him. He looked frustrated or angry and as I went to ask him if _he_ was, in fact, all right he told me my braid was falling out and then asked me to watch the fireworks with him that night. I expected a mention of Sirius or _some_ indication of what was bothering him, but it never came.

I wordlessly nodded overcome with far too many things to say and he told me he had to be somewhere but he'd meet me in the Common Room at half past eight. His footsteps echoed loudly through the hall and even louder in my mind when he was long gone.

**abc.**

**"A Warning Sign", by Coldplay.**

**abc.**

I found Bridget sitting in the Great Hall at lunch -- She was eating chocolates. Raising my eyebrows curiously, I sat beside her and reached for a roll and then a dish with vegetables. Before I could say anything to her, however, she popped the top back onto the container of chocolates and offered me to have some when I was finished with my meal."Who...?" I began but left the question hanging as an honest smile graced her lips and I felt the need to tell her to do it more often, but instead just prodded her with my elbow, inviting her to go on.

"Sirius gave them to me," she said and I knew I looked surprised for a moment but Bridget just nodded and continued in a tone that was content and light and the furthest thing from depressing.

"He just sort of plopped them down in front of me at the end of breakfast this morning. He said he had them and there was no one in particular he wanted to give them to, so he thought perhaps I'd like them. Real casual like, you know? But he looked really...really sincere, Lily. I didn't feel like crying for the first time all day, I just..." She smiled again and I would never be able to properly express the rush of appreciation and affection I felt for the boy.

"I think he's such a great guy -- Sirius, I mean. He just is, I think," I told her after swallowing a few mouthfuls of food and I felt her eyes on me and I realized I spoke of him in a sort of awed tone.

"James asked me to go watch the fireworks with him tonight. So, so maybe he was just...feeling off, or something. I'm not sure but you know, it doesn't seem like such a lost cause yet."

That's good, Lily, I heard her say and I knew both of us were wondering if it was really was.

Just a few days ago I had been sitting with Sirius in a dark corridor and he was bruised and beaten and there was a severe doubt over his friendship with James. I had thought it was, perhaps, damaged beyond repair. I thought I had finished it off with me admitting my relationship with James to him, Sirius, but now they were speaking and there was no elaboration from either of them. They were vague and frustrating and the ceiling in the Hall reflected a clear, pale blue sky -- some sort of attempt to break the common cycle of storms and cold and uninviting -- and I was moody throughout the rest of the afternoon, because everything seemed to be a large contradiction.

**abc.**

I holed up in the dormitory which, when girls took to readying themselves, began to smell of various different perfumes and hair products and became almost choking to breathe in. There was a dire need to impress that evening and I never thought to put makeup on let alone bother with my hair -- James seemed so disinterested in that sort of thing.These girls were stupid, I decided, curled up beneath the covers of my bed with the hangings open, as gleeful voices, all reassuring one another that their boyfriend's would be amazing, passed through the dorm. Oh, one of them was bound to get knocked up and perhaps then they would understand that it was useless to rely on a boy that much.

You sacrifice your independence and your solitude and you're with someone so often that you forget that you are two separate people and when it breaks and falls and shatters you'll be devastated and it's so _useless_ to rely on a boy that much! To rely on _anybody_ that much, it's useless. I knew and refused to acknowledge it then, that I was like that, as well. I looked at James and there seemed to be the entire world in his eyes and it was so hard for me to detach myself from him, it wouldn't make a difference how difficult he was to understand, to deal with -- I grew to rely on him too vastly, too quickly.

To put that much faith in another person is like playing with fire and as I just lay and lay there and thought, I had almost talked myself out of even going to the firework show with him but Bridget loomed over me at quarter past eight and told me if she was attending then I most certainly was.

I was lazy with my appearance, stroking mascara onto my lashes and putting berry coloured lipstick on, combing my hair through with my fingers and dressing in a black sweater, jeans and boots. I brought gloves and a cloak and I felt my mouth go dry while walking down the stairs to the Common Room.

My eyelids fluttered and my hands shook a little when I saw how good he looked, standing there in the emptying room in a pair of dark jeans and a brown coat, which his hands were shoved in the pockets of. The hearty glow of the fire washed over him and he was somehow enhanced, better than maybe ever. I hoped he wouldn't open his mouth and ruin the sight of him. I hoped he'd just be quiet throughout the show and maybe just hold my hand and let me _believe_ -- In something.

He took a deep breath and I expected words of something but instead he just absolutely grinned and let the breath back out in a bit of a satisfied hello.

Every thought in my head was mixed up and tumbling around and I didn't know what to think of him, so I just kissed his cheek almost shyly and kept a few steps ahead of him as we left through the portrait hole. It all suddenly seemed quite doomed, but romantic. Perhaps doom was romantic, though -- An imminent heartbreak held all of the romantic potential in the world if you were one to think like that. It was at that stage when you still had time for salvation and that seemed the most inspiring thing of all.

The staircases and passages were full of students and some Professors keeping watch, heading out to the grounds. At least fireworks in the Wizarding World were more flashy and creative than the ordinary ones Muggles used. It didn't seem quite as commonplace because of that and there was even a murmur of excitement amongst the crowd.

As we made our way en masse through the castle I became very aware of the all of the people around us. I felt as if we were being strictly judged, put on some sort of display for we had never been, as a couple, with this many people before. Rumors and whispers had been easy to deal with simply because we were never together outside of the dorm or outside of the Gryffindor Common Room, where no one really cared.

I slowed my pace and looked over my shoulder to where James was and he seemed to sense whatever it was coursing through me -- worry or need or something -- because he caught my hand in his own before I could turn back around and I tried not to look at him again as we continued on our way. It felt strange to be do something as innocent and intimate as holding hands when we had always been so...frenzied.

**abc.**

Upon descending the stone steps that led up to the heavy, oak doors I stilled for a moment with closed eyes and breathed. The cool, brisk air was calming and refreshing and invigorating just like the warmth of a fire is relaxing and makes you drowsy.

The only students outside to watch the fireworks were some of the sixth and seventh years, though the younger ones would definitely have a good view from up inside the castle. There were only a couple of Professors outside, standing on the steps and away from the students, most who were trudging through the thin layer of snow toward the lake to watch from there.

"Over here, then?" James gestured to the pack of our classmates huddling together and watching the sky over the lake as if they might fail to make a sound and we would miss out on something. He took his hand back from me and blew on them before pulling his gloves on and I followed suit.

We stood awkwardly for a few moments, craning our necks up as if we'd have to strain to see bursts of light and colour in the dark sky. There was a strange feeling of anticipation in the air and it was either comforting or childish that we were still able to enjoy something as simple as this.

I felt serene, almost too at ease but inside of me there was an unpleasant, restless wave churning. His stare was on me, not on the sky and I could feel them so intensely, so avidly and I could not look at him. My eyes were stinging when the first firework burst and I blinked a few times, suddenly struck with how clear, absurdly clear, the night was.

There were stars and I would've been content with just sitting and staring at them -- another particularly fancy one went whirring into the sky and there was a collective intake of breath -- and it wasn't even absolutely pitch-black out. It was a more of a navy night and the various colours just looked more appropriate against such a backdrop.

Wisps of white cloud floated without menace and you could see the sky reflected, almost exactly, in the still lake. I found myself watching the water more than anything and after each explosion, colour and dazzling effects spent themselves into the evening air. I chanced a look at him, standing close beside me but apparently not daring to touch me, as other couples stood, draped all over one another. We were a bit removed from the main group but still close enough to hear people talking.

His hands were in his pockets once more and he looked like a boy who would enjoy this type of thing -- we had sat together watching the firework show on New Year's Eve, I remembered -- but not want to let on. Nonchalant and mature but I wanted to see him without any inhibitions, he had been so reserved lately and I hadn't expected for it to get _worse_ once we got together.

I was gazing at the colours and patterns in his glasses and then I realized I was staring at my own reflection, he had met my eyes, and I felt my cheeks burn and I turned away as he spoke quietly, almost drowned out by the gasps and _Cracks!_

"Jenn had her baby. It's a girl," It took a moment for me to think just who Jenn was but then Christmas with his family came flooding back to me and a grin spread over my face.

"Did she? That's brilliant, what did they call her?" I asked with far more enthusiasm than he was speaking with.

"They called her Grace," And another firework blast into the sky, this time a big heart and then a cupid shooting his arrow. They were thematic, I realized, still grinning a bit. Kissing had started among the people and I always felt uneasy when exposed to public displays of affection. I looked to James again, thinking we might share a bit of a chuckle but he just looked so damned _exasperated_ with the whole thing and then he sighed.

"If you didn't want to come here," I said, loudly and coldly with my nose stuck out a bit. "You shouldn't've invited me. If you had some crackpot idea that watching some bloody fireworks might make up for the way you've been behaving," I paused.

Glaring at him, I became very aware of how angry I was. It felt good, it felt nice -- Some sort of release that he had refused to give me in any other way. In talking to me or being with me or anything. The only thing I could resolve to was being angry. I was quite impatient with being quiet about it all, because I felt guilty. It wasn't getting me anywhere, obviously.

"Then you were a bit wrong, weren't you? I don't care if we've only been together a short while, you could've been considerate enough to say Happy Valentine's Day," I wasn't sure he could hear me over all of the eruptions but I was almost yelling as it was. "It's stupid and overdone, but _God_, James. You don't put much effort into making a girl feel _wanted_,-"

He grabbed my elbow, hard, and pulled me to the side, even further from the cluster of our peers. His Adam's apple was bobbing and his eyes were alight and he looked as angry as I felt.

"I've been trying to be understanding and keep my mouth shut and try to get over,-"

"_Get over what_? Did Sirius tell you that he knows about the two of us?" I interjected loudly, trying to wrench my arm from his grasp but he just squeezed it harder, pulling me closer to him and leaning down so our faces were level.

"It has nothing to do with you telling Sirius! He was bound to hear it, _I don't care_. No, Remus told me something and I _realized_, Lily, that I couldn't trust you with anything. I can't trust you with my friends and most certainly not my feelings for you."

My anger subsided quickly, though more in a boiling over way than a soothed one. Red, hot shame poured over me and I knew the moment he said Remus's name what he had found out, why he didn't think he could trust me.

I felt like crying. I was breathing fast and it wasn't like earlier when he had kissed the breath out of me -- I was shocked and perhaps panicking but mostly _mortified. _It wasn't fair, it wasn't right for him to throw that at me now when he had plently of time earlier, when he could've quietly discussed it with me, but not when we were meant to be enjoying ourselves.

"Oh no," I moaned and put my gloved hands to my face, burying it away in them and trying to catch my breath. In and out, deeply now, in and out and then he yanked my hands away and he was blazing, he was furious and hurt but _so was I_.

"We weren't even _speaking_. You just up and decided to act as if I didn't exist for three weeks and what would you have had me done? Go on acting fine with everything? When you lied to me and you don't tell me anything, James! You act like I don't even deserve to be with you, as if I've not earned the right and it's not..." I was quivering and my breaths were coming shaky and I didn't know what to do.

"I didn't expect you to go jump into bed with my best mate," he told me and he let go of me and my voice croaked with tears when I spoke again.

"James, _please_. I didn't shag Sirius, we were just...We were just comfort and fooling around. It was stupid but so were you. _Remus_, had no right telling you. I hate him so badly! It was between Sirius and myself."

The calm came as quickly as the anger had and he told me, again, that he just could not trust me. I held his wrist and pulled him close and stared into his eyes and I didn't think it would be like this, the first time. I didn't think I would want him this badly, I didn't think anybody could become so attached to another human being.

"You told me that anything you and Sirius had -- At Christmas time, you said it was over with. The two of you were friends and the minute that we're not on good terms...You go to him. I don't know, Lily. I just...honestly, don't know."

Nothing about the night now was as lovely and cleansing as it had first been. The fireworks were obnoxious and the air was so cold it hurt to breathe and it was even darker now.

The last firework rang out into the sky and then everything went black.

It was in the second, there, before anyone could grab their wands and before any lights illuminated in the castle, that I turned away from him and walked back toward the school. I heard my name on his lips once more as I made off and it was a bit pleading, but I didn't think I could handle it. I didn't think I could handle him breaking up with me in front of so many people. I felt ill -- my stomach flopping around and my heart fluttering strangely -- and betrayed and wasn't even thinking about how he felt, though I hoped more than I knew that it was as terrible as I felt.

Oh my God, I thought as I wiped at my eyes, my heart might actually be breaking.

**abc.**

**"Sleep", by Azure Ray.**

**abc.**

Wow. So, it's been a long, long while and I apologize for that. I think, or hope, that this chapter is worth it. I hope it's not too boring or anything. I really think I needed the extra time, though. For myself and to write some other things. I appreciate all of your reviews and I you're the best critics a girl could have. It's so good and inspiring to know people enjoy this and I always try to impress. I worry constantly over what my readers might think and try desperately to keep a good standard.I hope you enjoy it and lyrics, as always, are on my livejournal. The end bit may seem a bit abrupt -- It was meant to go on longer but I just felt it was fitting to end there. It gives me a place to start in the next chapter. And though it seems maybe a bit sad, a bit depressing -- Maybe, yeah, they had a huge row and maybe they'll break up, who knows. But consider the chapter title, Everything's Not Lost (it's a Coldplay song that I didn't find a place for in this chapter). I just feel like, despite it all, there should be an underlying hope to this chapter.

My summer has been quite long and dull but enjoyable, nonetheless. I hope the rest of you are having good summer's and that you're breaks don't end too, too soon. I'm looking forward to hearing from you.

Kaitlyn.

P.S. If you're having trouble recalling what it is that Remus told James, you can take a look back at Chapter 21 -- Lost & Found. The whole Lily/Sirius thing takes place in that chapter.


	26. The Hardest Part

**Chapter 26**

"The Hardest Part"

**abc.**

**"Trouble Sleeping", by The Perishers. **

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"This seems awfully _end of the world_, Lily," said a disgruntled Remus Lupin, as I pulled him away from the kitchens and the girl with coppery coloured hair, who was a year younger than us and whose blue eyes were rimmed with kohl.

"Are you seeing her?" I asked, as he wrenched his sleeve from my grip and I stepped back against the cold stone walls of the dungeony corridor. "Because she looks a bit like a tart."

"Oh, yeah, absolutely," He nodded, tossing his sandy hair from his eyes and staring at me with a furrowed brow. "She _is_ a tart. Of course I'm not seeing her but a bloke doesn't really want to be alone on Valentine's and I didn't quite fancy watching the fireworks with Peter, all romantic-like and holding hands or something. You could understand that, yeah?"

The pause that followed seemed to be one filled with deep curiosity on his behalf and regret on my own, for deciding to come find him and speak with him. Moments earlier I had hated him so badly and blamed this all on him and now I couldn't even think of what to say and I realized I didn't hate him quite as much as I once would have.

"Wait on it, a minute. I suppose we come to why are _you_ alone on Valentine's? Is that what's so _end of the world_?"

I buried my face away in my hands as the girl appeared in the portrait hole leading to the kitchens and she threw Remus an incredibly toothy smile as she made her way up the corridor and then the stairs at the end of it. We were left alone once again and I decided the hundred or so house-elves in the kitchen would make for far better company than this boy.

"My being alone right now, that's what I'm here to talk about," I told him and he tilted his head to the side, looking entertained and pleasantly so, as the line between his brows eased slightly and his features lightened.

His mind seemed to be working furiously to keep ahead of me and he was thinking, thinking -- Trying to figure out what my being alone could possibly have to do with him and why it was so important to interrupt his date-type thing with the coppery tart girl.

"You told James..."

It never struck him until the first couple of words left my mouth and then comprehension dawned in an extremely obvious way -- Told by his suddenly slack jaw and the unnamable something that presented itself in his eyes.

I wondered if it was the closest thing to guilt that had ever prodded this boy's brain.

"Oh. Oh, that's what this is, then? It's all sort of coming out or something? How incredibly dramatic of him to blast it open on what's meant to be a nice evening for the two of you."

I held my breath and when I released it my hands shook and I cared so terribly much that I couldn't even bring myself to say that I did, to say that I cared. I couldn't look at Remus and say that, yes, it was all sort of coming out and yes, it was dramatic of him to bring it up in the middle of some preposterous firework show -- But I cared so much that I couldn't even let it finish, I couldn't stand still with him and hear it out, hear him out or even hear myself out. Essentially, I ran and by running I had left it hanging miserably in the cold, colourful February air.

"You weren't being vindictive, were you? I mean, I came here with every intention of being accusatory and pointing a finger but now I just," sighing, he understood what I _just_ and he stepped closer to me, staring me square in the eye.

"I wouldn't do that, Lily," he said and his voice was soft and quiet and close and I actually believed him, I actually believed it could be some accident, some fatal slip up of timing and precision and trust. "I wouldn't've told him if he hadn't asked."

"Asked, did he?" The weariness in my voice was shameful and I was too young to be such an absolute waste, I thought just then. "Just looked at you and asked if you'd heard any good stories about his best mate making out with his girlfriend?"

"Might as well have. We were sitting beside Sirius's bed in the hospital wing; he was all cut up and bruised, just after Reg had finished with him, y'see. And Pete had just left, so James got all distant and what not and as a loyal mate I had to ask him if he was alright. Standard answer to that question would be 'yeah, thanks' but instead he made a big fuss over replying. Sighed about it and then he asked if I thought whatever the two of you had -- you and Sirius -- was really done with, if it had really finished at Christmastime. I had to tell him, Lily." He finished matter-of-factly.

I asked him to tell me exactly what he had told James, and he did so very carefully and accurately. It was the truth, what he had told him. James and I hadn't been speaking properly since he came back from Jocelyn's funeral and it had been a long three weeks for everybody, he spouted off. Sirius seemed to be at odds with him as well, or just at odds with everything and it just sort of happened. Nothing terribly life-altering but a few good make-out sessions from time to time.

I doubted it would have mattered whether it had been a few good make-out sessions or just two friends sharing the weight on their shoulders -- James still would have regarded it as betrayal on some account.

Sighing, I shook my head and it really wasn't anybody's fault but my own, was it? Remus hadn't been vindictive over it and he hadn't embellished on it. James just asked and Remus just told and if the two of us had just broke up, if we were just going to _break up_ over it -- Well, there were only two people to blame.

**abc.**

Remus walked with me back to Gryffindor tower with an arm thrown casually around my shoulders, weighing heavily across them and his wand held in the other hand, lighting our way.

"Speaking of being vindictive," he began as if it hadn't been twenty minutes since our conversation had first started and ended, as if we were still standing down there with a portrait of a bowl of fruit and the memory of brother's fighting.

I knew I was smiling when he said her pretty name, simply and with some air, with something in his voice that wasn't there when he spoke of the coppery-haired tart girl whose name I later asked and found was Delilah but I thought would be something like Trixie or Bambi.

"Melly," was the name that presently fell from his dry, pink lips – I always admired some flaw on a person that showed they spent a lot of time outdoors. Brown freckles across a nose, chapped lips from the cold or tan lines around a wrist from a watch.

And I repeated her name – it sounded strange and foreign that night after so long of forgetting December and everything that had come with it – as I looked at him and waited for something more, some voiced question rather than just the one that lay over his face.

"You could tell them, you know. Speaking of being vindictive, you could tell them. Even us out, get us playing on fair grounds again. I think I'd understand."

Bless him, I thought, because he really was trying. He really thought that by suggesting I expose him and Melly's less-than-healthy relationship, it would somehow make things better. I supposed it was his way of expressing guilt and I appreciated the effort, I really did.

And the whole notion of being vindictive, the whole notion of getting him back and slicing open a new wound for us all to gape at in order to forget about my own festering mess – It might have sounded appealing if it was any other time. If Remus Lupin had told me to play the Melly card for any reason a few weeks ago, I was sure I would have.

There was a change in my perspective, though, sometime between my three-week long row with James and becoming his girlfriend. Something had changed and shifted and I was better, perhaps. A bit better and a bit smarter and I had a recurring thought – Remus really wasn't the worst person in the world. Hurting him didn't sound quite as enjoyable as it once would have and when I stopped walking and hadn't replied, he seemed to realize it, too.

"I think I've gone a bit soft, honestly. It's not my business, you and Melly. It's not James or Sirius or Peter's business, either. Don't worry about it, okay? I'll leave it alone. It just seems so far away now, or something. Not so much insignificant, the two of you, no. Just that, I understand it better."

I walked ahead of him and he stayed standing there for a few moments until I entered the portrait hole and he clambered in a couple of seconds after. Remus's cheeks were the slightest shade of pink as he made his way to the boy's dormitory and I felt a little like bursting.

**abc.**

Bridget reckoned we should talk about it – me and James -- and she was a clever girl, quite good at the whole boy thing, so I thought about it for awhile and maybe talking wouldn't be so terrible.

After all, I didn't even know if we had broken up or had a fight or what it was.

So, I reckoned we should talk, as well. But I figured in order for the whole talking thing to work, I would need to find him. I would need to find him and sit him down and it would have to be quiet and maybe dark so I couldn't see him – Or his eyes, those hazel, hazel eyes. Yes, it would definitely have to be dark.

I told Bridget about the entire thing after Remus and I had separated in the corridor and I found her almost immediately in the crowded Common Room. She listened intently and chewed her lip and suddenly she wasn't as brash, as terribly unfeeling as she had been over the last few weeks. The night was some breath of fresh air and it was funny that in order to grow even the tiniest bit closer to two people – I had to completely set off another.

Midnight was approaching and there were still classes the next morning, offering me an excuse to give up my search for James earlier than an eager, concerned girlfriend should have. In truth, I was dreading it.

And things were suddenly a bit less dramatic than I had made them out to be. The world wasn't about to stop for the two of us and classes and Head Girl duties proved more pressing than some drawn out spat with James did.

So, I did my best to forget of it.

...Until dinnertime the next day.

**abc.**

James arrived in the Great Hall in a sort of blaze. His strides were long and quick and he observed his surroundings with a gaze that was confident and unconcerned and it sent something shooting through me, to see him like that.

I didn't really expect him to be a mess, to be falling apart. I figured if I wasn't a mess or falling apart, than he wouldn't be. So, it wasn't as if I expected him to come moping into the Great Hall for dinner and maybe look a bit tired and worn out -- It just seemed wrong, though, the look in his eyes and the smile at the corners of his mouth.

"Lily," his voice held a quiet warning and it pulled my gaze away from James and across the table to where he sat. The other two Marauders' were in deep conversation about what was different with the potatoes at this meal and there he sat, Sirius, his goblet in his hand, raised to his mouth and his eyes averted from me.

The clatter and clamour of dinner threw me off for a moment or two and I lost my train of thought, forgot that I had been eyeing James and instead frowned at Sirius, trying to decipher just what he was trying to tell me by raising his eyebrows slightly and not looking at me.

Then I saw Sirius's eyes following something – James departing from the hall with a load of sandwiches and sweets – and remembered that I had wanted to find him, wanted to make things right with him the second I had seen that strange smile on his face.

I pushed myself away from the table and rushed to the entrance hall, though James had already disappeared.

"You think it's a good idea to go dashing after him, all damsel-in-distress, after what happened last evening? He's still a bit pissed, Lily."

I spun around, my hair flying into my face and my arms flailing wildly as I tried to tame it. My heart was thumping rapidly and I felt an instantaneous anger toward him -- Just seeing him looking handsome and disheveled in his uniform after the day's classes and so involved, so concerned with the situation made me hate that it had been him I had kissed and it had been him that I fell for first. It shouldn't've been, for kissing Sirius was the reason that James hadn't an ounce of trust in me and I was so over this boy, this game.

"Oh, who do you think you are?" I said, exasperated. "_You_ think it's a good idea to even be seen speaking to me after the overreaction he's gone and had? How's that fair, he's as good as dumped me over it but you two are still chummy?"

I knew if they were on good terms again, if they were speaking and if the four of them had returned to their previously untouchable state – Well, it had taken awhile for it to get back there and I should really be glad if they were speaking once more. It took a load of guilt off me and I could quit feeling so destructive.

"The only reason we're alright is because of what happened with Reg and because when he looked me in the face and asked if I had been fooling around with you a couple of weeks ago, I didn't run off all in a fuss because I was missing the firework show."

I shook my head and looked to my feet, straightening my sweater and the pleats in my skirt. I couldn't explain it but my cheeks were on fire and my body was shaking a bit and I think it was relief, what I was feeling -- Relief for having someone to shout at and relief for having someone besides myself to blame for the potential loss of James.

"It wasn't like that, at all. I tried to tell him and explain it but how do you explain something like that? He's not going to understand. Or, I suppose he could but he's just not going to want to hear it from me. I left because I didn't really fancy the idea of him breaking it off in front of so many people."

The longer he went without speaking, the longer he stood there with his hands clasped all gentlemanly behind his back and with his head bowed in some sign of respect or apology – The more I wanted to pull my wand out and hex him.

"Why's it me you're angry with? I wasn't the one who told him, Lily. It was Remus and I'm just bothering with you now because I felt bad, I suppose. Maybe if you just leave him be, he _won't_break it off. Just…never mind it and he'll come around is all I want you to know."

Nodding, I said alright, I'd leave it alone for a day or two and I told him I was angry with him because it was as much of his fault as it was mine own and I just felt forced to resent it and I was angry at the entire thing, not just him.

He walked away, after bidding me good day, and I felt a semblance of what James must've the night before – Exposed and unfulfilled, just…Unheard. Yes, leaving it be for a day or two…Maybe it would do us both some good.

**abc.**

That Saturday, Gryffindor had a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. The sky was clear and impossibly blue and the sun shone down upon the grounds. Patches of brown, dead grass were visible through the melting snow and there was a faint, distinct taste of spring in the air. Though, it was still only February and the air was still cold enough to bring colour to your cheeks – You could feel it. It was imminent.

Perhaps it was that -- the looming spring, taunting and appealing – which prompted me to go outside after the match was over and perhaps it was that, the feeble strength of the sun's rays that made me stop in my tracks when I saw him approaching.

The breeze that swept over me, as I stood with my arms folded and my hair blowing was a pleasant, refreshing one -- Like the days that had passed without him, pleasant and refreshing and _liberating_. I hadn't realized how restricted, how awkward I felt around him until I spent those couple of days with nobody but Bridget and the occasional Remus.

Usually I frowned a lot, too much, and usually by the end of the day my head throbbed and ached and I was so temperamental but when I didn't have to worry about him, when I chose _not_ to worry about him, I felt somehow lighter. I wished James could see me that way because I knew he'd like me better; he'd want me around more.

"Did you win, Captain?" I said, with a grin, as he neared me, his broomstick thrown over his shoulder and his hair a wind-swept mess.

"Of course," he replied, setting his broom on the ground beside where we stood, and turning to look back at the pitch. James was very proud; he always was after a good game. It would have been nice if there was a game every week, to keep him in such uplifted spirits because he would crash just a couple of days later.

"You not watch it?" He asked, looking at me once more, his scarlet robes fluttering around him.

"Sorry, no. I wanted to finish my homework up today and...Well, I thought it was colder out than it actually is."

James nodded and when I met his eyes he quickly looked to his hands and adjusted the leather gloves he wore. He appeared to tower over me just then and it was funny to have him appear so dominating when his head was lowered and his eyes were flitting around.

"Did you mean it when you said you couldn't trust me with anything?" I asked, in a low tone, after a minute or two of just standing with my hands clasped in front of me and of him kicking at the snow.

"Certainly, I did and can you blame me? Everything's so tangled and I didn't realize it and it was just really odd to hear about the two of you. I was extremely oblivious to the entire thing and _Lily_," I looked up from watching my hands twist and turn when he said my name to find him looking at me. This was it, I thought. It didn't feel quite as apocalyptic as I thought it would.

"I think when I asked you to...When I decided I wanted you to be my girlfriend, I think it was just a way to keep you around, to not lose touch with you. I don't even know if I really wanted it, I think the whole idea of being only friends was kind of foreign to me and I never really took the time to figure out how it was I felt about you."

I held my breath for a moment and let it back out and felt the blood rush and I didn't like when my hands trembled.

"James, if you want to break it off, if this is _you_ breaking up with me, then just _do it_ and don't stand here and say it's because you never really cared about me, or you couldn't quite grasp the concept of just being friends. Don't say that because I don't believe it. You know exactly how you felt about me and I am _sorry_ about Sirius."

His hazel eyes danced in the sunlight and the sparkling snow and he was smiling at me.

**abc.**

"**The Scientist", by Coldplay.**

**abc.**

"It's _good_ to hear you talk like that, Lily. Like you know what you're saying and mean it."

He brought my body close to his and held me there longer than I thought was typical for a breakup and his cheek pressed against mine and he chuckled warmly in my ear, tickling it and he told me he was so _fond_ of me and he was sorry, too.

It wasn't until later that night, after the party in the Gryffindor common room had ended and after the butterbeer had been drank up and the fire had died and I was laying in my bed with my eyes wide, wide open that I realized -- That had really been it. He was even noble when he was breaking a girl's heart.

And it would be two long months before I bothered thinking about or talking to him again.

**abc.**

Okay, so, just over two months since I last updated? I do apologize for my being soso slow but I can say that I worked steadily on this Chapter and that I reallyreally like it. I think it's far happier than we're used to for All that Matters while being a tad...melancholy. I think I'm pleased with how it turned out and I hope you all are, as well. I can't make any promises about the next chapter and just enjoy this one, okay? Lyrics are on my livejournal, which can be found in my profile and feedback is always appreciated.

Kaitlyn.


	27. April Showers

**Chapter 27 **

"April Showers"

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**abc.**

**  
"Oleander", by Sarah Harmer.**

**abc. **

March came and went lethargically, bringing with it bare, grey skies and the sun's lacklustre attempt to bring warmth and life back into the world. There was no in like a lamb, out like a lion or vice versa – There was just day after day of entering the Great Hall and gazing up at the ceiling appearing as the sky and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, just another bland day.

There were no remarkable snow storms and nothing exciting to bring everyone out of their slump. Perhaps it was being so far into the term, but still so far away from June. Perhaps it was the never-ending winter and spending our evenings contemplating what magic can do for the weather, rather than studying. Whatever it was, it was widespread and exhausting, an echoing sort of quiet in every corridor of the castle.

During March there was Bridget. There was Bridget and Remus and some other girls from our year who really weren't that bad. March brought boring weather, a load of work and friends.

The apparent war that was waging through the winter seemed to suddenly stop. The Daily Prophet told of no mysterious deaths, no serpents in the sky and nothing about Pureblood's and their plans to rid the Magical World of all of the impurities that Muggles bestowed upon it.

This was what they called suspicious.

"Ministry of Magic," So went a conversation had one morning at breakfast. "They're doing a better job covering this whole thing up than they could have done preventing it."

The seventh year boys in Gryffindor often sparked great debates about the whole thing and it was thrilling to sit in on one. Conspiracies and murder and some clan of dark magic followers – There was maturation about us, the graduating class, through the months that made me begin to wonder if we really were going to be all right.

I grew no closer, in the month that passed since James and my demise, to figuring out just what it was I planned to do with my life. I took my classes and I sat my tests and I received my grades but nothing was set in my mind, nothing was on fire and nothing was passionate. I felt like March had felt – Boring and incomplete and uninteresting. It wasn't quite as depressing as one might think it would have been, though. I hadn't felt so absolutely carefree in my life. Although I could have been mistaking carefree with purposeless.

Remus felt sorry, I knew he did. He felt sorry and he looked sorry and I thought he was spending time with me to make up for it -- To somehow make me forget of James and to help usher me along. But after a couple of weeks when he was still there, in the Common Room at night, talking to Bridget and me about things I hadn't an idea interested him – I realized this might very well be a friendship with Remus Lupin.

The Marauders were some reunited front and it was sometimes sickening how strong their bond was, how they could be around one another so often. Sirius didn't take the time to speak to me very often, only in passing and James and I would greet one another when Head Duties made it impossible not to. Otherwise, there was nothing. There was a gaping void where they once were and Bridget was often very careful not to mention it, but I didn't really miss them all that much. Yes, most of the time I spoke to Peter Pettigrew more than I did either of them and he was quite the twitchy boy but entertaining at times.

**abc. **

April brought relief, in the form of rain. In the form of rain and sunshine and sometimes both – Sometimes there were both and sometimes there were rainbows and it was spring when the grass turned green and the sun shone strong and my freckles reappeared.

Along with relief, there was Easter to look forward to in April. A long, glorious week of Easter Holidays and just the anticipation of such a thing felt nice. Each day we ticked off how much time was left until the weekend that the Holidays began on. We had decided to boycott work and just eat and sleep and breathe.

Not many seventh years would be going home for the Holidays, just those whose parents still valued their presence. But the need and appeal of running home during every break had long since worn off and we were just looking forward to enjoying the weather and the castle and good company. The students who would be going home left on Monday, after the weekend.

I woke the morning that marked the beginning of break – a Saturday – to a pale yellow sky, lit by a lazy sun and clouded by some lingering fog. The dormitory was empty and I hummed quietly as I searched for clothes to put on. It was sometime near 11 o'clock and I pushed open the window a bit as I tossed my shirt off, breathing deeply.

Standing in my black bra and pajama pants, a navy t-shirt in my hand, I looked down over the greening grounds. The trees were budding and flecks of colour dotted the lawns; flowers blooming. Everything glistened with water droplets and it had been raining so often lately – "April showers, you know" people would repeat -- that it was nice to have the sun shining, albeit weakly. The air smelled sweet and warm, the way it does after a downpour and there was something rich and earthy about it, too.

I tied my hair back into a ponytail and it was uplifting and relieving to feel this content and peaceful. My skin was as fair as ever, washed in the golden light from the hazy sun and goose-bumps raised along my arms and shoulders as a shiver wracked through me. The feeling came and went quickly but it was there long enough to prompt a frown from me – Some sudden melancholy, something quite sad and strange.

The door opened to the dorm and I tugged my shirt on, turning around to greet Bridget and closing the window as I did so. I began suggesting we spend the day outside on the grounds, lounging and oh, iced tea or pumpkin juice would be splendid if it gets warm enough.

But she didn't say anything, just stood there looking odd and her cheeks were pink, wind-kissed, and her normally sleek hair was a mess.

"Yeah, it is nice out. A bit of a breeze, is all, I was just down with..." She trailed off hopelessly and I frowned at her now.

"Lily, listen, I don't know who would…, well. I guess I should tell you because everyone else has gone and the only reason I know – otherwise I wouldn't, I swear, you'd be the one telling me – is because I have such a _thing_ for Sirius Black and I'm not sure where it came from but that's not at _all_ what I have to tell you, it's just...Lily, Mister Potter, he…he's died."

Slack-jawed and narrow eyed, I ungracefully choked out "wha'?" and wasn't sure what I was questioning, whether it be her new…_thing _for Sirius Black or a Potter dying.

_A Potter dying,_ my mind screamed and it was blazing and painful and I blinked heavily, shaking my head, and stared at Bridget.

"Who died?"

She told me again and said she had been spending time with Sirius lately, so when the news came they were in the common room together and all of the boys left immediately, she had accompanied them outside and "oh my gosh, _James_" I muttered, a hand to my mouth, sinking down onto the bed and it felt like those two months without him hadn't happened.

Melancholy was quite fitting, I realized, for the sunny, foggy, spring morning.

**abc. **

**"The Commander Thinks Aloud", by the Long Winters. **

**abc. **

There were a few minutes – four or five – in which I floundered about, trying to think clearly and ask Bridget just what had happened. When she said she didn't know, when she said all she knew was that Jude had died and that the boys were leaving – I decided to be angry with her.

Who did she think she was, after all? To march into the dormitory and just stand there and let me ramble on about the weather and then tell me Mr. Potter had died in between confessing her newfound _thing_ for Sirius Black. And why hadn't she been decent enough to find out what had happened, just _how_ one went about dying before declaring it to me? I felt ill and my face was hot, my heart beating painfully.

And I couldn't help but think that Ray, _her _Ray, had just died in January and here she was all caught up in Sirius and _how was it_ he did that? Made a girl forget about anything else and oh, it was those eyes, those fathomless grey eyes and I felt like I should warn Bridget of something but I couldn't think of a foul word to say about him, despite wishing I could.

I wasn't jealous, I was overwhelmed. Sirius wasn't the type of boy that causes jealousy because there's a widespread fact that there is enough of him for everyone and he was not someone I had even wanted to be around for months.

"So, what, you've been running around with Sirius behind my back and thought now was an appropriate time to throw it out there?" I snapped, looking at her from where I sat and not feeling the slightest remorse as a startled expression passed her features.

"Lily, honestly, there's been no 'running around'. He's been lonely, I think. I just said, I'm not sure where it came from, it just…did, and we're mostly friends it's just sometimes I think I'd like to kiss him,-"

You would, I thought, it's lovely.

"But I'm not at all encouraging a relationship or anything; I've just been giving him company. Oh, Lily, James's _dad_ died, please think of that and not some suppressed feelings for Sirius."

I stood up, chewing my lip and glowering at her. It wasn't her fault, at all, that he had died but it seemed fair – then, at least – to take it out on her.

"You're a bit useless, stood here going on about Sirius but you don't even know how Jude died? I suppose I've got to sit around for a week before I find out what's happened."

She exhaled loudly and looked as if she regretted stepping foot in the dorm, and as I made to leave she called out,

"It's not my fault you went and lost James. Otherwise, you'd have known."

**abc. **

Easter Sunday came, with even-tempered weather and skies so clear, and I found myself very much alone. A sleepy dusk was falling all around, taking the sunlit common room and bathing it in a romantic glow and sigh, what a day to be all alone, waiting on a not-so-reliable boy about a man's death.

I was curled up in an armchair and you could hear people down on the grounds, laughing as the day faded and I felt like fading, too, just sitting there staring at the open windows in the room. It was kind of difficult to think of James and of his father, to realize that he had died. Maybe because I had been without James for so long and maybe because I did not know Mr. Potter that well – It didn't seem possible to me. Sure, they talked about deaths there at Hogwarts and all of the attacks and drama and yes, it was terrible but I didn't _know _those people, I had never seen them or known them well enough to really feel the loss. I wondered when all of this tragedy would start occurring to me. I figured when it happened I'd be worse for the wear.

And there was something about young people, teenagers that make them believe they're immortal and even when other young people are dying we don't believe it can happen to us, to ourselves. It was a scary way to live, as if you have no boundaries, like you're some untouchable presence. I felt careless and foolish but I really preferred it that way.

When I drew myself from my thoughts, looking over to the window again, I saw the owl perched on the ledge, staring at me with its large eyes. Nearly tripping over myself to get to it, I took the scroll from it and it flew away at once.

I glanced at it quickly, noting the signature at the bottom as Remus's and then I started again;

_Lily, _

_I hope this finds you in better spirits than those we're in right now. As I asked Bridget to tell you, Jude has died. I can't say much here, just that it was unexpected and untimely and typical death-like things. _

_Well, the wake is Monday afternoon, around 3 o'clock, and I know the Hogwarts Express is leaving earlier in the morning Monday – Likely 7 or 8. It would be good of you to come, Lily, I think James would appreciate it; he's inconsolable, as you can imagine. Even If you don't make it for the funeral, just showing up would be incredibly unselfish of you. _

_Take care, _

_Remus. _

And the Potter's address followed his sign-off.

**abc. **

I wasn't satisfied with the letter, I was so tired of not knowing and even slightly disappointed it hadn't been James writing to me – But, then again, who did _I_ think I was? He was vulnerable and at a place in his life you never want to find yourself in, how could I expect him to think of writing to me?

Nevertheless, I packed a bag Sunday evening and woke early Monday morning and got on the Hogwarts Express in Hogsmeade like any other student, as if I were looking forward to a nice Holiday.

I apologized to Bridget and still felt unreasonably cold towards her and told her I was leaving and she was not going home over the break and the feeling of _lonely_ was gripping me like never before. Not because I had been lonely but it was hard to imagine what those months would have been like without her.

The weather was stubbornly persistent in being fair and pleasant and I wished it was pelting down rain from dark-grey clouds and storming and rumbling because this wasn't the type of day you associate with a funeral, a man's death. April showers would be more like it.

It was a long train ride with a couple of 6th year girls and a 7th year boy, all from Ravenclaw house, so I didn't really know them. I spoke sparingly and stared out the window most of the time because what I was doing, where I was going just became apparent to me. And I could not think of James and how he was doing because I was just so bad at these types of things – These thinking and relating and consoling things. I did not know how he would be and I didn't know what I would say to him.

There was one black dress that I owned and I thought my chest looked too good in it and my waist too narrow and _since when_ did girls criticize themselves if they looked nice in a dress? I just felt guilty and strange and needed something other than him to think about.

I changed into the dress on the train – it was a shirt dress, collared, with buttons from the top to the bottom. The sleeves stopped at my elbows, cuffed, and the waist was belted, the hem of it just hitting my knees. I wore a pair of flat, black sandals and no tights. As I thought of a way to cover my legs, pale but long, I realized I was also terrified to see Mrs. Potter again; who would likely think no tights equaled no class or something. I felt like I had no place going there but _such_ a place, too. I hadn't been so torn before in my life.

When the ride was over, I felt my nerves catch up with me and my hands shook as I used a payphone to call a cab, and hesitantly handed over the Potter's address.

**abc. **

The driver commented as we pulled up to the house that there "must be something going on" and I just smiled and said yes, there was – Because the street was lined with cars and I never thought the wake would be held here.

I walked slowly, carrying my luggage awkwardly and wishing that I had taken my sunglasses off before I knocked on the door.

There wasn't any noise inside, movement, anything. I had expected a great deal, given the number of cars parked and not to mention all of the witches and wizards who would have apparated and used floo powder.

As I raised my fist to knock again, observing the front yard, which was luscious looking already with its green, green grass – The door opened and oh, of course it was James.

He still towered over me, when I expected him to be hunched and small. I could see the muscle in his set jaw and his flaring nostrils was the only sign he gave of surprise. Adjusting his glasses, a hand back through his hair, he told me that everyone was in the back yard – "that's where, uh, you know, it'll be" – and I dropped my bag and took my sunglasses off, as I flung my arms around him, tip-toed and pathetic.

You're shameless, I thought, and the only thing that was really familiar about him was his smell. Not his quiet voice, his white skin or his expressionless face. No, just his warm neck and how he was everything that was good.

Composure and self-respect seemed to be something we both lacked, for he was clutching onto me so tightly I could barely breathe let alone speak and it felt so _nice_. His fingers splayed about my waist, over my ribs and I heard him tell me that he had forgotten how tiny I was and really, I wasn't, nearly 130 pounds was healthy but it was so wonderful that he was speaking and he was not crying or stumbling, just talking hoarsely to me.

Thankful I'd been too tired to wear makeup, I pulled back from him, wiping my eyes with the hand I held my sunglasses in, the other one tugging on my ponytail. Really, what was the matter with me; it was his father who had just died. I didn't want to be the first to mention it.

James picked my bag up from the stoop and I stepped inside the house, which hadn't seemed this inviting when it was Christmastime. It was warm and cinnamon, bread and flower aromas wafted through the air, and there was a look of disarray to the rooms.

I still hadn't said a single word to him, as we moved into the living room and I could just almost hear voices drifting in from outside. James was standing in the doorway of the room and I turned around to look at him, standing close, and opening my mouth to say something insightful and consoling.

"I'm really sorry, James," His hazel eyes were roaming and burning and when I said his name they stopped on me.

I choked on anything else I might've said as, with hands on my lower back, he turned me and leaned me gently against the wall and it was some sort of slow-motion thing. When he kissed me it was with slight stubble on his face and an eager mouth and _this isn't what I'm here for,_ I thought.

He never moved his hands from my back, keeping a grip on me and I brought a hand up to his face, resting it there as he kissed and kissed me like he hadn't done for ages.

It was a few minutes before he pulled back, and I looked up at him slightly dazed with flushed cheeks and fuller lips. Oh God, this is a funeral, I mumbled to myself, looking down as he buried his face against my neck and sighed my name and thunder clapped, rain fell and the funeral was delayed for a half hour until the rain stopped coming down.

James asked me if I thought it ever really would stop coming down and he was sad, I decided, as guests made their ways back into the house without a Man.

I felt something for him that day that I never had before.

**abc. **

**"Into Dust", by Ashtar Command (or Mazzy Star).**

abc.

Okay, you're going to have to forgive me for this. When was the last time I updated...November, just a couple of days off my 2nd anniversary. Very hard to think I've been writing this for over two years -- That's such a long time, I would've been so young. As I was saying, you must forgive me for the 3 month delay, I don't know what I was doing. To sum up these last three months -- Christmas came and went and it was great and busy, as usual. School has been crazy but second term has started now and exams are done, so it's getting better. University applications and all of that junk is pressing but oh well. My grandmother died and the winter is cold and this took me so long to write. I had been doing well with it, it was getting long. But then a week ago I erased almost everything I had written since November and I rewrote it all. So, this is very fresh, very new, very how I am feeling.

It's kind of quick and written differently, I think, but it's meant to be a buildup to the next chapter. It doesn't seem all that sad and there's not much dwelling on James yet but there will be. If I had focused on all of that in this chapter it would've been soooo huge. I've written exams, I'm honouring with distinction, I've figured out where I want to go next year -- But nothing brings the sense of accomplishment that finally finishing this chapter does. I hope you like it and I know there's so much Lily in this that it's almost irritating but I think it's...interesting to focus on her for such a long time.

And please don't criticize the two of them kissing, again, after two months of...not. It sort of just happened as I was writing it and it's how I imagine James would be. Affectionate. Desperate. Yes, so, the lyrics to the songs are on my livejournal, as always, and I really recommend all of these songs.

Love, Kaitlyn.


	28. Futures

**Chapter 28  
**"Futures"

**abc. **

**"Half Acre", by Hem. **

**abc. **

James had the earnest, slightly awkward look to him of a boy who had just gotten a haircut, that hadn't had the chance to grow out. His nose seemed longer, his forehead broader, his eyes wider and he looked so young. He kept dragging his hand back through it, ruffling it and hoping that each time he did so it would draw attention away from his jagged fringe.

He stood in the misty rain, wearing a long, big-buttoned wool coat and he looked very pale in the grey afternoon. There was a frown on his face as he laid a hand on his father's urn – Jude had been cremated and it made the entire thing seem less official but it was also easier to deal with.

The service had ended just as the sky clouded over again and there wasn't any lightening to accompany the thunder or the showers, just a couple of claps and it had ended. The entire day felt backwards and mixed up and there were no sad hymns or long eulogies. Just a reverend standing with a bible in his hands and James's mum sat up front with a very set expression on her face. I did not take her as one to cry and she didn't, just held her daughter's hand.

It was completely inappropriate of me to be standing there and watching him as he grieved and I was remembering things the reverend had said – redemption and salvation and eternal happiness – and I could not connect those words with anything else. But they were words of comfort and something about a better place. I blinked and looked at James again, gripping the sliding patio door, tempted to join him in his misery – Which loved company.

With that thought, I pulled the door open and crossed the lawn to where he was. The urn was on a stand, surrounded by bright flowers and water-spotted photographs of the happy, smiling man. It was eerie to watch him moving around and waving from the photos, when he was deceased. I shook my head and shivered as the rain sprinkled lightly onto my bare forearms and neck, goose-bumps rising along my skin.

He turned to look at me and I didn't feel quite so bad for imposing when he tugged his lips into a painful smile. He wore a pair of grey slacks and a white-buttoned up shirt, with a tie and he was worn but good.

I had only spoke to him once since my arrival, to tell him I was sorry, and it was unbecoming of me to have had made out with him without saying anything substantial to console him.

"It's cleared out a bit in there, not as crowded," I told him and he nodded once, looking down at the sodden grass and then up at the sky. He sighed and it was deep and I could sort of feel the ache in my own chest. "You should come in, so you don't catch a cold or something."

He quirked an eyebrow at me and I shrugged, telling him I wasn't sure it was accurate – that you could catch a cold from damp or chilly weather – but I always heard Mum's saying it and he let out a strange, choked laugh.

"And you, Lily Evans, are not a Mum, so please don't stand here and…talk like you wouldn't normally talk, you know? Just say whatever it is you feel like saying and don't act like you're worried about me catching a cold." My heart leapt into my throat when he smiled at me and it reached his eyes, crinkling them slightly and I swallowed a few times before taking a shaky breath.

"I feel and I think…I think the boys feel, too, completely responsible in making sure that you're okay. And I know you're not okay and maybe you will never be, I don't know, but I will say anything I need to say to help get you there. I can't even imagine how you're feeling, though,"

"Fit to burst." He interrupted with a reassuring squeeze to my arm.

There was a needy declaration lingering on my tongue – _I need you to be okay_ – and I bit my lip, unsure of whether to say it, unsure of whether it would be selfish or sweet of me. I shivered again, wringing my hands and he opened his coat – damp as it was – allowing me to slide my arms around his waist and rest my head against his shoulder.

He was terribly warm, his skin slick with the persistent mist of a rain, and he felt very stable for a boy whose entire world had just endured quite the pummel.

**abc. **

_  
_**" Rain City", by Turin Brakes. **

**abc. **

Evening came – the sun sank, the sky glowed through the grey and the mist and everyone was keeping it together.

I had taken a shower after fetching James, and returned downstairs to calm and quiet. Treading softly, I peered into the living room where Mrs. Potter sat with Melly's parents and her husband's family – His sister, brother-in-law and niece. Mary, Mac and Jenn, all of whom I had met at Christmas, were pleasant and kind and this event did not seem to change that. Jenn had a baby in her arms and her husband by her side.

The four Marauders were sitting around the kitchen table, playing cards and drinking Butterbeer and there was something inexplicable and languid in the air. Remus, even, seemed to be at ease, for perched on his knee was Melly, the lovely neighbour girl.

She shuffled the cards as the boys drank and decided which game to play next and none of them seemed to pay the slightest mind to the situation. Something he had worried would be a big deal, fooling around with Melly, suddenly was not and it so is funny how something like death can do that – Put things into perspective.

James looked up as I came into the kitchen and his eyes crinkled as he grinned.

"You didn't have to put that back on," He said, simply, referring to the dress I still wore, while everyone else had changed into lounge clothes.

"I never thought." I muttered, sweeping my damp hair up into a ponytail as he drew a chair up to the table for me.

Their game commenced and I sat beside him, wordlessly observing and I knew them not to be carefree but just so comfortable that they could deal with it like this, they could forget the awkward apologies and condolences and find solace in one another's company.

And when you thought of it, when you thought of four boys who were this close you appreciated it and praised it but also grew curious of it. I wondered what it was, what event or what year or what it _was_ that had bonded them in such a way.

Sitting around with James's family – extended and otherwise – I began to think of my own family and of a letter I had received from my sister sometime at the end of January or first of February. She had told me the house had sold and it was not something I found significant anymore, not something that bothered me like it had a couple of months previous. The longer the card game pressed on, however, and the longer I thought about that letter and what else it had contained – the guiltier I grew.

She had told me the house had been sold and she told me that Mum was doing fine and Dad was, as well, and she had – begrudgingly, I thought – invited me to her wedding. She was marrying a man named Vernon and I remembered meeting him one summer I had gone home, when she was still a teenager. Despite resenting her, I found it admirable she could marry someone she had been seeing for so long, she could stay with someone for such a time.

Commitment, I supposed.

I had thought about going. I had seriously seen myself going and congratulating her and being the sister I should have always been -- Supportive and kind and caring, for I was older now and capable of making amends with her. She was embarrassed of me and my lifestyle and was so different from when we were little girls, but she was my blood and I was going to her wedding.

The wedding had been last week, the week before the Easter holidays began, on a Saturday afternoon. I, despite my good intentions, had not gone. I did not go and sit and smile and tell her how beautiful she looked. Instead, I stayed at school and I wondered if she noticed or cared.

And a week later – the weather had been nice the day of her wedding, I recalled, and it was a good thing because she would have been one of those hellish brides if anything had gone wrong – I was sitting in James Potter's kitchen because his father, a man I barely knew, had died and it was raining and pouring and oh, the whole world was spinning.

"Are you okay?" He asked with a hand to my arm and my gazed rested on his hand before turning to meet his eyes.

I felt impossible and stupid when I looked at him and he was asking if I was okay. It wasn't any fair that I was so terrible at being supportive. Everything I thought to say to him, everything I had decided to say while standing in the shower, in the spare bedroom I had occupied at Christmas –

It all seemed far too empty and I could not imagine what I would find comforting in a situation like this, so I just chewed my lip and did not often look at him and there he was, concerned for me.

"Absolutely," I said, my fingers atop his for a moment before he pulled back and sort of considered me, giving a nod and continuing in his game.

Before the card game ended – I didn't even know what they were playing – I had locked eyes with Melly and I tried to smile or something but it ended up awkward and she looked at Remus and then me and she was so pretty and so delicate and the strangest thought occurred to me about the two of them being in love.

I was aching for happiness in some form.

**abc. **

Sometime after midnight, when everybody who was leaving had left and everyone who was staying remained, I found myself alone, lying on the bed in the guest room I occupied.

I hadn't spoken to anybody but James the entire day and it was beginning to get to me. I felt really suffocated, incomplete for some reason. I wanted to talk to Remus, to thank him for writing to me. I wanted to tell Sirius I was sorry, for Jude was more of a father to him than his own. There was some extreme _out of place_ feeling pressing in on me and I had not even been aware of it – I didn't know when my and James's world had, once again, become separate.

James's cousin, Jenn, and her husband were staying the night, for Mrs. Potter and Lexi were going to Mac and Mary's. I imagined it would be difficult for her, to stay in the big, grand house without her husband. Remus and Sirius stayed, too, though Peter left to spend the remainder of the Holidays with his Mum and Melly was still sitting with Remus when I had gone to bed.

There was something hollow, something missing. The comfort of company did not seem to curb the cold, the void in the Potter house. There were six of us there that night but I felt miles away from another human being. Sitting around in solitary is the last thing you need when your mind is turning rapidly and there is still tragedy in the air.

Sitting up off the bed, I went into the bathroom joined to the bedroom with the intentions of washing my face and – finally – changing into a pair of pajamas. I turned the water on and let it run over the washcloth until it was steaming hot, laying it on my face and breathing deeply.

I went back into the bedroom, unhooking the belt of my dress and slipping the buttons from their holes, looking for my bag that I had tossed into the room earlier.

With the dress on the floor at my feet and as I tugged on the sleeve of a pajama shirt from my bag, I realized the door was shut firmly, whereas I had left it slightly ajar. There was no doubt in my mind of how it had closed but I still took my time turning around.

"Oh, God," I said, startled though I was expecting to see him, lying there on my – his – bed with his hands clasped over his stomach.

His response was a soft mutter that I couldn't quite decipher but I stood where I was, in a bra and half-slip, the pajama shirt hanging uselessly in front of me.

I watched him take a deep, rather shaky breath – his chest rising and falling slowly – and approached him, tossing the shirt on top of my dress and folding my arms.

"How did he die?" I asked and it sounded vulgar and bold, but curiosity had gotten the better of me and I, for a moment, didn't care if James was on the verge of some breakdown or if his Mum was doing well or if his friends were fine. I wanted to know how Jude had died, I wanted to know if it had been brutal and murderous and _why_ nobody was talking about it.

I bit my lip and he frowned but barely faltered in answering me.

"Heart-attack," James said, and I supposed I felt relieved, felt slightly thankful that it wasn't anything to do with the dark wizards or the waging war but then it struck me, once again, that a man had died and I was so morbid.

He slowly sat up and I felt a jolt in my stomach, a quickening of my heart at the look on his face, in his eyes. For a boy who had been playing cards just a couple of hours ago, who had been laughing and smiling and spending time with his friends – He certainly looked angry. But it wasn't the _I want to scream and yell and maybe hit you or just punch something very hard_ kind of angry, it was an incredibly – _Lily, you slag _– sexy-looking angry.

My cheeks burned red and I remembered my bra, tightening my arms and covering myself the best I could. He was a boy, after all, and I wondered if he still liked me or maybe just wanted to kiss me and why he was looking like that.

With a wrinkle between his brows and a muscle ticking in his jaw, he put one of his hands on my back – on the spare bit of skin between my bra and slip – and pulled me closer to where he sat.

Minutes later I found myself, and not very gracefully, tousle-headed and red-lipped beneath him on the bed. Somehow, between kissing him and touching his hair and his shoulders I found the time to wonder where the boundaries had gone. When had it become appropriate, acceptable for him to see me in my undergarments, to kiss me like I meant something to him, to say so little to me?

It did not seem quite right for the two of us to be holed up in this room, secluding ourselves and falling back into some destructive habit. It did not seem right that he was in the mood for kissing when his dad had died and I realized that I wasn't at all sure how to deal with it. The gravity of the situation, the overall seriousness of it never seemed to penetrate me. All I could think of was him and I hardly spared a thought or a word for Sirius or Remus or any other member of Mr. Potter's family.

There was something remarkably appealing about James.

Before I could say anything to him he had rolled from atop me and, instead, lay beside me. It all seemed to get a bit overwhelming for both of us, for he had recoiled and was frowning up at the ceiling, not offering me – the girl he had just pinned to the bed and made out with – so much as a glance.

"James," And I had meant to tell him, before he could look at me or touch me, that it was okay, I wasn't going anywhere and I could be here for him, I could be supportive of him without having to be kissed. My being around did not mean I expected anything from us, anything in the form of a relationship or a reconciliation and I had been forming the words, had been thinking them while meeting his hazel eyes but just as quickly, as determinedly they had left.

"I don't know what to do," he said to me, his voice quiet and rough. "I think I need to be capable and strong but it's just not working. I've got friends and a Mum and a sister and they're all coping and there's just devastation scrawled over everything but I seem to be the only one to see it."

I shook my head, laying on my side and facing him, a hand beneath my head and the other tracing up and down his bare arm.

"No, you're not. Everyone's probably thinking the same thing. There's no rulebook that says how to handle stuff like this – you're dad just died, James," he winced and shut his eyes. "You are allowed to be miserable."

Minutes passed and nothing was said and the room was dark and stuffy and I had an urge, I had the desire to be outside and liberated. I wanted to be far away from this world, this magic and this heartbreak.

I whispered his name, my eyes shut and lashes brushing my cheeks, three or four times before I began telling him about my sister. I did not expect him to care, I did not want him to care – I just felt completely obligated to keep him either focused or distracted.

He made a soft sound when I had finished, expressing my guilt and my uncertainty over my future, over my life. It occurred to me that this would be nice to have. And when I wasn't sure what 'this' was, I knew it was him – he would be nice to have again.

"You are going to be all right, I think, Lily. You're better than you think you are."

I smiled slightly and left my eyes closed, legs tangled up with his, bra strap falling down my shoulder and hand against his chest – completely unable to feel any sort of heartbeat or warmth or something romantic like that but to have him close again was lovely and reassuring.

Death was peculiar and unsettling and to dwell on it too long could do more damage than good. I felt a bursting, pulsing hope that night with him. Something that had love and spring and graduation all over it and the _future_ rang through my head more than once and I wanted to tell him that we could have a future, we were the future, and there was _the future_ to look forward to. I figured he already knew, though, because had a boy whose father just died not been thinking about the future – really, how could you even go on living properly if you weren't thinking about something optimistic?

The weeks, months we had been apart had done him well and I would have slept with him that night if I had a bit less sense to me. I would have fallen in love with him and slept with him and completely ignored the prospect of friendship if I was just the tiniest bit passionate.

Though, there are always futures.

**abc. **

**"To Sheila", by the Smashing Pumpkins. **

**abc. **

**Hi there. Once again, sorry for the delay. Hope things are well for everybody and this chapter wasn't quite what I intended for it to be. Nothing terribly life-altering or anything but…I think it works okay, for how Mr. Potter's death should be handled. Nothing over the top just, you know, Lily & James. Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews, too.**


	29. Sound of Settling

**Chapter 29  
**"Sound of Settling"

**abc. **

**"Lack of Colour", by Death Cab for Cutie. **

**abc. **

I awoke – the sort of abrupt coming-to that you do not enjoy and sends your heart thumping madly in your chest – at sometime after 4 o'clock, to a lighter bed and a draftier room.

James was there, perched on the ledge of the open window in the bedroom. Hanging from his mouth was a cigar and he was quite terrible at it, sort of sucking and blowing out and not really inhaling and I got the impression he had lost his sense of self. The smell was putrid and the look on his face told he did not like it, either.

To me it was all endearing.

"I'm starving, are you starving?" he asked suddenly, not looking at me, not acknowledging that I had just woke up and that it was gone 4 A.M.

"Uh," I had found the pajamas that I had been so determined to put on earlier folded at the foot of the bed. "Right now? Maybe, I don't know. Did you put these here?"

"Yeah," he responded, cigar stuck back in his mouth, teeth clenching onto it as he held onto the ledge, leaning out of the window a bit more.

I quickly changed into the pajamas and he was gentlemanly – drastically different from a few hours previous – and did not look my way until I had finished. I felt dignified and was appreciative of him for it.

"God, no, I'm honestly starving." He snubbed the cigar out, tossed it out the window and turned to me, still propped up on the window ledge with a curious sort of frown on his face.

Smoothing my hair, I crawled to the other side of the bed and then sat up; dangling my legs from the side and watching my feet swing back and forth. The immediate response I thought of was to tell him that it was 4 o'clock and that he looked – really – terrible, all dark-circles and pale skin. He needed to sleep. And smoking – anything – wasn't going to help matters or change anything, so he might as well not do it. His voice was hoarse and his hair sticking up, his eyes bleary and I was about to tell him we should just, you know, go back to sleep, rest.

But it occurred to me that…to disturb this, to disturb him now when he seemed to be on some high, when he seemed to be untouchable and – perhaps – in denial would be disastrous. Maybe there was some salvation in the dark, the night for him and it was not my place to coax him back to reality. It obviously was not where he wanted to be just then.

"You know, I like you in pajamas as much as that bra."

I wished he was okay as he let on.

With a wide smile – it felt strange to be smiling so honestly and brightly at a time like this but I wondered what the restrictions were on 'a time like this', how long was it meant to last? – I joined him at the window, adjusting myself to sit on the large ledge, too, drawing one of my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around it.

"You should know that…it's not going to be like this," and it was nothing serious, nothing heavy and the smile stayed on my face, in my voice as I spoke. "it's not going to be you kissing me and you seeing me in my under-things and you waking me at 4 o'clock because you're starving,"

A ponderous sort of sigh left his mouth and his lips were upturned, slightly.

"I just don't think it should be that easy. All kisses and beds and neediness – it'll change, you'll get tired of it and I'll be…alone again. I've missed you and my being here now is not some outlet for you. I just want to be near you and in your life again. I'm thinking we should start like that."

Eyes sparkling and dazzling and hazel he nodded slowly and turned his gaze out over the street and the sky, before muttering, "All right, Lily."

A heaviness was in my chest, a constricting feeling – it lifted and then my pulse was racing and I felt like I could breathe easy again. Maybe it was all right, maybe we could be and the optimism, the inexplicable good cheer that I felt that night never really left me, after that. There was something reassuring about him, even when he was a starving, smoking mess.

The sky was all navy, moon, stars and satellites and it was vast and forever and there was so much in forever to rely on, something about the unknown that was as enticing as Jude's death was heartbreaking. I could not quite understand this rebirth, this liberation but I did figure it was what drew us in again.

James left the bedroom declaring his starvation once again and whether he did really go to eat, I did not know, for I remained and went back to sleep.

The smell of the cigar lingered in the room and on my pillow was the smell of his shampoo and it was funny how boys always smelled starkly different than girls. All woodsy and outdoors but musky and it was – really – quite hard to place yet so constant and familiar. I thought it was appropriate because that is how James was to me, constant and familiar.

And it was – comfort, perhaps – that thought that followed me in to sleep.

**abc. **

Morning came dull and grey and warm. There was no light streaming in my window, no jarred awakening but instead some sweet smell coaxing me from my slumber. I opened my eyes and saw Remus standing beside the bed with two mugs in his hand, one which he handed to me was tea with honey.

"Oh, you're lovely." I muttered, as I sat up and took the tea gratefully, sipping it immediately though it slightly burned my tongue.

"I didn't get the chance to speak to you at all yesterday. I nearly forgot you were here until James said you were still asleep," he watched me as I drank and blew on the tea to cool it and paid attention to him as he continued speaking. "And it's just – Lily – I'm glad you came. He seems like he is coping and I can't imagine how, I can't imagine doing the same."

I nodded and hurriedly swallowed my mouthful of tea, for he was looking at me expectantly and he seemed – I wasn't sure, worried or concerned.

"No, absolutely, you're right. He does seem like he is coping and please, it's as much to do with you boys as anything," Remus bowed his head at this and raised his mug to his mouth, though he stopped short of taking a drink.

For, perhaps the first time, I felt the strangest, the strongest flood of affection, of endearment toward him. He was not beyond emotion, beyond guilt or loss and sometimes I forgot that but it struck me then that he was feeling it, he was sharing it. They did not need speak of it, they were all so close and connected, but Remus was there, experiencing the same pain, the same void his friends were and it was admirable. He knew Mr. Potter and was as suddenly without him as everyone else was. A part of me wished I knew how they felt but the other knew that I should never wish that sort of turmoil and pain upon anyone.

"How are _you_ holding up, Remus?"

His eyes – stormy blue and revealing as anything – met mine over the rim of the cup and I knew how he was holding up without him having to speak.

"It is unimaginable, you have no idea what your reaction will be to something like this until it happens."

And it was happening now. Here and there and everywhere and it was not just this family. Something of a trend and perhaps others were dealing with more tragic deaths and I felt revolted at the thought that they should be thankful it was just a heart-attack – _just _a heart-attack? Scary to think, it was, there were things so terrible going on that heart-attacks seemed like a fairer death.

We did not speak again, though he sat down on the bed with me as we drank our tea and found a paper to read which spoke of secret groups and dark movements and death after death. There was something definitely chilling about it.

All of the trivial, forgettable things I fretted over suddenly seemed just that. My life seemed so small and petty compared to these big fighters and dedicated Aurors and tragic endings. I was not ashamed of that, I did not wish for that to change. I realized, then, that I was incredibly lucky to sit at Hogwarts all safe and secure with Head Girl duties that I often slacked on and piles of homework that – as the months wore on – I completed half-heartedly but I was content and lucky, just very lucky.

If I had told Remus of my revelation he would have looked me in the face and told me that I was lucky and it was about time I realized it. He would have been glad I realized it, too. I never felt the need to share it, though, for to speak everything on one's mind can put you in compromising situations later. It was nice, I figured, to just be at peace with myself.

**abc. **

**"Sound of Settling," by Death Cab for Cutie. **

**abc. **

April passed quickly – with, it seemed, equal days of rain and sun, grey skies and clear ones, hell and hope – and finished with a flourish, offering three warm, bright days in a row before fading into May.

Often when months or years pass we forget – or, rather, don't bother – to sit and reflect or even consider how much time has passed and how quickly it has. You end up realizing someday where you are and how you've made it there and it's all a bit overwhelming.

But I could not forget of April. I could not help but think about it and reflect upon it and I wondered when it would quit looming, when things would recover some normal pace or normalcy at all. After Mr. Potter's death, everything that had been on the brink for so long seemed to rush forth and the Wizarding World was in upheaval. Perhaps I was just realizing it all, I was just paying closer attention to the papers and the stories and the deaths. Or perhaps there was really more violence and there were really more deaths. Either way, it was becoming difficult to ignore and it was just becoming a part of everyday.

I stayed with James, after his father died, until the end of the Easter Holidays. Mrs. Potter and Lexi came and went, though I had only seen them a handful of times and spoke to Dani just once. I told her I was sorry and she said "so am I", hugged me briefly and went on her way. She seemed to be more protective of Lexi, rushing her around and making sure she was nearby. I could understand, though – She had lost her husband and her son was barely two months away from graduation and his own life. Lexi was becoming her life-support.

James did not stay terribly depressed for long, he fell in and out of it, much like Bridget had after Ray passed away. Some days he was so bright and cheerful, smiling and lovely all round but others he grimaced and there were new creases on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes. Those days were rough ones, because it did not matter who you were or if you had done anything – you were bound to be yelled at and I was growing weary of feeling guilty for being angry with him. His father's death did not give him the right to verbally attack people whenever he felt like it but sometimes I thought maybe that was exactly his right.

There were times I avoided him completely, too awkward and inexperienced to deal with everything he wanted to pile on me, everything he wanted to shout at me. It was this that once again gave Sirius and me something in common.

He looked as good as ever and there was a week in April after Jude had died where he looked dreadful but he somehow pulled dreadful off. Unkempt hair and a becoming-beard, dark circles and a scratchy voice – it was like looking at him a few haggard years in the future and it was not bad at all.

We did not sit and talk about James or Mr. Potter passing away or any of it, like I had with Remus. I knew that Sirius considered Jude more a father than his own and it was sweet but also rather heart-breaking. It was something sacred, perhaps, between James and Sirius and both Remus and I knew there was no penetrating it. No matter what they had gone through, what rows they had – there was something connecting them and I felt completely grateful they had one another.

"He said that to you?" Sirius asked, as I approached him one evening in the common room, relaying one of James's tantrums off to him. He looked as if he had been thoroughly and recently kissed, hair a mess and lips pouted. It still sent a jolt through me to see his eyes all wide and grey, alluring.

I considered it a sign of growth when I realized it was Bridget he had been thoroughly and recently kissing but was stricken with amusement instead of some buried jealousy.

"He did," I nodded, pushing my hair back off of my face and sighing heavily. "It's hard not to slap him about the face because I think he deserves it."

Sirius moved from the armchair he was sitting in to the sofa I was on and instead of sharing me in a sigh, he laughed.

"You've got to know he doesn't mean it, because how lame is the 'selfish bitch' thing getting? Lily, you are not selfish because you want to go study alone or eat your own dinner. James is sounding a tad insecure to me."

I told him he was right just as Bridget entered the common room and they both exchanged a huge, genuine grin.

**abc. **

Two weeks into May – it was the sort of day that May was known for. The grass was growing and green, flowers blooming spectacularly and the sky the bluest, clearest you've ever seen it. It was the kind of a day a girl could live for.

But James had a knack, a tendency for ruining those lovely May afternoons and weekends. This one was no exception, when I arrived in his dormitory in a pair of denim shorts and a tshirt he was in bed, covered from head to toe and had the hangings pulled. The act of telling him in sing-song voice how beautiful it was outside and how warm the sun was had long since worn off. I tore the hangings back and folded my arms, my ponytail swinging threateningly, though I stood still.

"Let's skive off homework and just spend the entire day outside, yeah? Maybe we can get some sun, even my freckles are pale."

I examined my outstretched arm and waited for something from him, aside from a scowl. When – quite typically – nothing was said, just some groan of irritation, I hauled the blankets off of him and tossed them to the foot of the bed.

"Lily, just go away," He said as I tried and failed to tug him out of the bed. "I'm not in the mood."

And before I knew it or considered it or even _cared_ – I was, for a change, shouting at him.

"No, of course you're not in the mood. There's sun out and it's daytime, so you must be miserable right now. And it's so bloody fantastic that it works out for you – it's all about when you're not in the mood to move or talk or do anything. But if it's a school night, gone 2 A.M. and you want to sneak down to the kitchens or something – well, I better be in the mood or I'm a selfish bitch!"

James sat up, his black hair sticking up all over, his glasses lopsided and his brow furrowed.

"I feel completely guilty and terrible all of the time for you, so I just sit here and wait for you to decide when things are going to be okay and when they're not. I'm so exhausted, though, James," I had gone from shouting and pacing to muttering and trembling.

"We've barely a month left here and I'd like to spend it _doing_, experiencing things – remembering this place,-"

"Then maybe you should go find someone better to spend your time with,-"

My hands tugged my hair away from my face, holding it there as I breathed, _breathed,_ breathed…

The emotion in my voice was unexpected and unwanted but there nonetheless and my eyes stung, my nose prickled as I felt the building of tears.

"That's the thing," I said, completely defeated, sinking onto the edge of the bed and staring at the sheets instead of his face. "I don't want to be around anyone else, I don't want to be with anyone else – ever. James, I just,"

I felt like saying it and I felt like crying and I did not know which to do, I did not know whether to sit there or run away. The last month had been strange and uncertain but also very bonding for us. There was nothing specific, no title we had to go by and even when he was irrational and angry I still felt for him, I still stayed with him. As a friend or more than, I didn't know and most of the time I didn't care -- most of the time I kissed him when I felt like it and joked around with him when I felt like that. There was no pressure and nobody cared anymore about the head girl and boy hooking up, his friends were unconcerned and had their own lives, their own things to worry about. We were off of the radar and free to do whatever we pleased and the times that month when he was happy and well-off were some of the best we ever had.

"Lily," and he wasn't angry or asking me to leave him alone anymore. He wasn't cold and distance but suddenly, but _wonderfully_ flushed in the face and hoarse in the voice and sitting up even straighter.

His hand seemed to find itself pressed against my arm, shoulder, neck of its own accord and James looked fascinated, looked perplexed at the contact, at the warmth of skin on skin. It was as if he was realizing it, that I _had_ been there the last month and we were doing so _great_ –

It was with his mouth against my neck, fingers reaching for my own that he muttered my name again – "_oh_, Lily" – and then pulled back to stare into my eyes – "green, green, green" he breathed, brushing tendrils of hair off of my forehead –

"I'm absolutely…I know, I just…I love you."

**abc. **

**"Same", by Snow Patrol. **

**abc. **

Hey, I hope this chapter wasn't too delayed. Time is honestly escaping me and I am glad I got this chapter up now, becaues I won't be free for weeks now. Exams are this week and I have prom, graduation...everything else the next couple of weeks. It is sort of emotional and intense but I've made it this far. Enjoy this chapter; I did. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to review or email me. Thanks for all of the reviews, I appreciate it.

Kaitlyn.


	30. The Good Life

**Chapter 30  
**"The Good Life"

**abc. **

**"Don't Wait", by Dashboard Confessional. **

**abc. **

There was nothing suffocating about May. Not like it was in the midst of summer – all humid and close, no breeze and no relief from the blazing heat. May was a _good_ month, the best month, the most forgiving. It somehow offered cool and warmth in the same day, comfortable, ideal temperatures. May was ideal.

That evening in May was one of those strange, funny contrasts. With the smell of spring, the smell of faded heat still lingering in the air and crickets were chirping contently but with a refreshing breeze, a damp fog swooping down. I was wearing shorts but shivering, had a sunburn but could see the stars as clearly, as if it were a cold, still December. The whole day had been a strange, funny contrast, I thought.

For a boy who was so distant, who was so determined on making it by himself – he fell to the idea of love, the whole 'I love you' thing quite quickly. I had figured it would be me. It would be me standing awkwardly, in some sort of inappropriate situation declaring my love for him. And it would be too soon and too mumbled to seem sincere. It would be – I had figured – a disaster. It would be something I would put off for as long as possible.

But there he was laying it out on the line like he did it every day; like he was comfortable with and happy about exposing bits of his soul like that. Saying it steadily, saying it like the sort of realization that just knocks you over in the moment. His eyes were hopeful, hazel, wide. He had every right to expect some sort of response but I just stood up and tug, tug, tugged on my ponytail.

It was only a moment – could have been an eternity – before the door opened and James's dorm-mates came spilling in, loud and obnoxious and since his mates consisted mostly of his fellow Marauders, it would have taken just a second for one of them to notice me. So, as any dumb-founded girl would have, I took the opportunity and slipped from the room, breathing a bit heavy.

And, somehow, I avoided seeing James for the rest of the day – that warm, intoxicating, lovely day. I spent it with an unusually Sirius-free Bridget and we sat by the lake and dipped our toes into the water – a bit optimistic of us, for it was still cold. It was the sort of thing you discussed with your girl friends – what do I do, do I say it back, oh my God am I not far, _far_ too young for this?

There was something disrespectful about it, though. Something untrustworthy about it, something that made me feel almost guilty for even thinking about telling her. Instead, I sat quietly throughout the day and I could not imagine telling him the same thing. I could not imagine looking James Potter in the eye and telling him I loved him. It seemed like I was dwelling on it too much to even _know_ how I felt about him.

Bridget was laughing, her infectious, pretty laugh and relaying a story of her day to me and the sun was sort of pulsating, beating down on my body and it was warm, comfort, not unlike he was. I did not know if that was enough, or what it even meant.

Standing there in the dorm that evening, after a long day of sun and laughter, I had decided to find him. To, at least, dignify him with a response of some kind.

**abc. **

**"The Story", by Brandi Carlile. **

**abc. **

The similarity, the irony of the situation did not escape me, as I stood there waiting for him. It was just a couple of months ago that I had met him after a Quidditch match and broken up with him. And now I was standing there, waiting for him, after he had a late practice with a completely different intention.

When I saw him approaching I noticed it was with his typical, sort of signature look – the windswept hair, Quidditch garb covering his long, lean frame. Shoulders broad, broom thrown over them and a complete air of arrogant nonchalance surrounding him. It was not anything new for James Potter, not something I hadn't seen before and hadn't rolled my eyes over. But that evening the very sight of him had my breath catching in my chest, painful for a moment and then bursting forth with a great gasp.

His teammates were all making their way up from the pitch as well and they seemed tired, irritated and were muttering about their determined Captain who was bringing up the rear. I could not suppress a grin – you could tell the season was winding down and the pressure was on when he kept the team practicing on a Saturday until nine o'clock.

"Oh, familiar," James said in mocking tones as he spotted me standing there. He clutched a hand to his chest as if he were remembering some faded heartache. "Are you here to tramp all over me again?"

The fact he was smiling, playful, joking did not calm me any. Rather it sent a jolt through me, my stomach flipping and flopping, no words leaving my parted lips. It struck me, occurred to me that if – of all my years at Hogwarts – there was something I could be remembered for, a moment that would always stand vividly apart from the rest, it would be this one.

It would be this moment, standing in the becoming-dark with the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, who looked like a dark silhouette as he stood with his back to the fast sinking sun, the starry sky beginning to blanket overhead of us.

And suddenly I felt reckless, I felt stupid. _Are you here to tramp all over me again? _He wasn't forgetful, he wasn't about to forget what had happened and the fact he had told me he loved me was hanging there, the elephant in the room. Was I here to tramp all over him again? I really did not want to be reckless with his feelings, his heart.

I said nothing for a few moments and he let out a nervous little laugh.

"I'm sweaty and dirty," he gestured to his grimy hands and face and laughed again. "So, I could meet you in the dorms after I've had a shower. Aside from Quidditch, snogging you is my favourite thing to do."

His perverse comments were horribly endearing and the way he pushed his glasses back up his nose, ruffled his hair and looked at me expectantly nearly ruined me.

"James," I was surprised to hear the lack of concern, of worry in my tone, instead uttering his name lightly and happily.

The wind blew my hair into my face and I tucked it behind my ears, lowering my head and stepping closer to him, my gaze still at my feet. He set his broom on the ground and his newfound light-heartedness was gone and his hazel eyes were gleaming behind his glasses and he was never one to be too optimistic but he had the sort of look that told he was hoping, wishing but fighting it. He did not accept disappointment.

When I said nothing, again, unable to find the words to share what I was thinking – he had wrapped one arm around my waist, resting his hand on my back and the other pushed my hair from my face again and he smelled like sweat and dirt and maybe just the outdoors. There was something so indefinably James about it that I let him kiss my mouth, his scruffy chin scratching my cheek, his muddy fingers leaving a print upon it.

There really was not much more to it than that. There never would be, there didn't need to be. What else could there be than this, than him? Fleeting thoughts of the future and our youth and everything that I should be concerned about spun through my mind but none of it seemed that important anymore. When he kissed me I thought of when I was younger, how I loved to spend time with my sister, wear dresses to church and fly kites until they were gone from sight. James was with those things, James was apart of the sacred, sparing things that I treasured, adored, _loved… _

"I love you, okay?" I told him in a whisper because I was afraid to sound fake, cheap, like I was a liar. I didn't know how to assure him, to know that he _knew_, so I squeezed his hand and kissed him again and the breeze was cool, daylight had lost its battle to the night, insects hummed and buzzed through the air and there was no need for doubt just then.

**abc. **

**"Nothing Like You & I", by the Perishers. **

**abc. **

June hit us hard and along with it was the stress, anxiety, pressure over our NEWTs, which were to be sat at the end of the month. There was hardly time to recognize, to accept or deal with the fact it was June of our seventh year – Seventh year, _final year_. To be a part of that time, to be a student, a Gryffindor in a decade, a year, _a time_ that was so unstable, so tumultuous was strange, difficult.

Were we to worry about our classes and our friends, boyfriends and our graduation? Or were we to worry about the dark movement, the attacks and deaths and organizations to join? Would we be ignoring the problems, the matters if we tried to go on with our lives, to complete the education we had so eagerly sought, so dedicatedly stuck with?

There were moments – and as the weeks wore on those moments became more frequent – when it did not make sense to me but I did not feel alone in it. I knew I was not alone in it. Every single person felt the same way. There was uncertainty shared amongst us and sometimes you just wanted to ask _what should I do?_ But never did – as together as we were in it, as united as we were, you could not help but feel alienated by your own thoughts, your own pride.

I found the cruelest thing about the month of June to be the weather, which only grew fairer the deeper we were into the month; the closer we were to summer. But the closer we were to summer, the closer we were to our examinations. Hardly a moment could be spared to spend outside in the sunshine, though all of the time we spent longing for it just slowed us down in our revision.

Gryffindor took the Quidditch Cup the first weekend in June and it had been a fine day with a blue sky, sweaty brows and blinding sun. The team took turns hoisting the cup into the air and bellowing their happiness, their excitement over winning it.

When James grasped the cup in his hands and lifted it up above the crowd, everyone chanted his name and there were shouts of how he was the greatest captain Gryffindor had seen. He made a brief speech – about how much he loved the team and loved the game and urged them all to continue to beat Slytherin out – and I was startled to see his eyes shining a bit as if they were glazed over with tears.

I congratulated him and he kissed me to a chorus of catcalls. There was butterbeer and firewhiskey making its way around the common room and as Head Boy and Girl we looked the other way as everyone drank the night away. It was funny to think that it would be the last time I would be apart of any Quidditch Cup celebrations in that common room, with those people. It was a far off reality that we were slowly becoming aware of.

It was that night – that happy, celebratory night – in which Sirius looked to me and with lidded eyes and breath reeking of alcohol told me his brother was a Death Eater.

"Sirius," I said, looking around the full common room for someone better suited to hear that sort of thing from him. "You don't have to,-"

He was smiling slightly and shook his head, thick brown hair falling across his forehead and obscuring those piercing grey eyes.

"Can you believe it?" he slurred and really, I couldn't – it all seemed like some story we read in the papers, something that happened to other people but not someone I knew. To know that his _brother_, his own flesh and blood that had beat him black and blue a few months ago was involved in that sort of thing, was a _Death Eater_ – it was astonishing, really.

"My father wrote me and told me. Nearly almost congratulated me on being about to graduate and then sort of threw it in there. _Reg has finally committed to his interest in the Dark Arts – he's joined the movement and is working with the group. They call themselves Death Eaters,_" he relayed and for a boy who was so very drunk he knew the words quite well, which made me think he must have read them over and over again.

He paused; tipped the bottle he was drinking from to his mouth and drained it before continuing.

"It's funny, isn't it? My own brother, a Death Eater. You know what they do, don't you? They kill pretty little Muggles like you; Wizards, too. Hell, they're killin' everybody…"

As he trailed off, slamming the bottle down onto the end table and apparently succumbing to the effects of alcohol, I fully realized for the first time what was happening. When he had said that – killing muggles, wizards, everybody – a chill had crept from my very core and as it crawled over me it left gooseflesh in its wake and I felt, somehow, a combination of helpless and weak but fierce and determined.

"Not funny, no," I murmured with closed eyes and a hand rubbing my throbbing forehead. "Terrifying, is all."

**abc.**

Two weeks later, we were drawing ever closer to the ungodly task of completing our NEWTs and the intensity of it had cracked more than a few. It was wearing on our Professors as much as it was on us and we would all be so glad when it was finally over.

It was near the end of the week and we knew in just _one more_ we would be through with it, sitting and enjoying our remaining time at Hogwarts. Most people had taken to studying in groups that night and it was after curfew, so the common room was full to bursting with seventh years.

Through the noise – the muttering of spells and charms, flashes and sparks coming from wands – and commotion I noticed Sirius coming from the boys' dormitory carrying a wireless radio with him and calling to people to quiet down.

Both Bridget, who I had been practicing with, and myself turned to look at him curiously, brow furrowed and wands dropped onto the table we were sitting at. He did not explain what he was doing; why he was apparently breaking out the Wizarding Wireless Network at that hour of night or where he had gotten it but there seemed to be a tension, an understanding shared through the room.

The radio crackled slightly before honing in and it gave me the eerie recollection of stormy nights spent with my family sitting in the living room with the radio turned on, just quietly listening to the announcers and songs in order to wait out the thunder and lightning.

A man's low, deep voice resonated loudly around the room and I figured it was because no one was speaking or moving or hardly breathing. The man paused, cleared his throat – you could hear parchment shuffling in the background – and seemed to be coming to the end of something he had read off.

"Damn it, we've missed the names," Sirius muttered, adjusting the dials and leaning in so close his ear was nearly pressed to the speakers.

His fellow Marauders, save for an apparently absent Peter, were gathered around the same table with hard, fixed gazes on the device. It's like they all _knew_ something, we were all _expecting _to hear something…

"And that concludes the up to date list of deceased, though more details are pending," the man rumbled smoothly, almost mournfully. "If you are just joining us – there's been an attack, Muggles and Wizards alike. Um, at least four Auror's dead, countless other Ministry employees. More than twenty Muggle casualties and so far close to forty Wizards have been confirmed dead. The injured could be in the hundreds, uh, the culprits have not been apprehended…"

His voice trailed away and it was obvious they were receiving details every minute because more voices could be heard in the background and still we all sat, gravely quiet, terrified to even begin to marvel over the events.

James looked at me from across the room, pale-faced and jaw clenched and I had never seen him look so beyond his age, so mature and serious. It was the second time in as many weeks that I was stricken with the gravity, the enormity of what was going on around us. To think I was once just preoccupied with boys and homework was almost laughable.

In between reports people muttered amongst themselves, speculating over what had happened, why it had happened – there was no answer to it. I sat horrified at the table with Bridget, unable to voice any of the disbelief, outrage that was going on in my head.

Books lay forgotten, parchment strewn over the place and some people sat up all night, listening. They wanted more names, needed to know every last detail – their parents, relatives could be dead, so many people could be dead.

It was only when McGonagall showed up in her dressing gown and cap, demanding we shut the radio off and head off to bed that we did so. It was her sharp, stern voice that had caught us and brought us back from that low, rumbling voice, trying to reassure us, metaphorically hold our hands through the whole, terrible thing.

**abc. **

On my way up the stairs to the Girls dormitory, I looked back over my shoulder and saw – now that McGonagall had disappeared, seeing fit that we were obeying her – people regrouping back around the table, heads bent low as they listened to the radio. Sirius still sat there, as did Remus and it was mostly boys, except for James…

I hurried back down the stairs and then up to the Boys' dormitory, slowly pushing open the door and listening for voices or a sign that there was more than James inside.

Confirming he was alone, I stepped in to the room and seemed to be completely engulfed by the darkness of it. The common room had been well lit even as the late hour grew because so many of us were studying but the dorm was in total darkness. I held my breath and stood still as I waited for my eyes to adjust, looking around for him.

He pulled open the door to the bathroom, letting the light from there flood out into the dorm and I gave a start as I turned to look at him. For a moment I had forgotten why I had went up there, what had just happened. The question I was about to ask him died on my tongue because it was always rather lovely, always rather pleasing to see him in all of his shirtless glory.

Never were his abdominals overly defined, too hard and chiseled to look – well – real but his stomach was toned nonetheless and his pajama pants hung so low on his hips that the lines of his pelvic muscles stuck out. It was such a _girl_ thing to be caught up over, such a typical thing to notice but the strip of hair that trailed down his stomach, from his navel to lower regions…

"Lily!" He shouted at me, moving closer to me, concern etched in his frowning face. "What are you doing? Are you all right?"

"Yes, fine, sorry," I said, shaking my head a bit and finally meeting his eyes which were so delightfully hazel and searching that I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. He continued to look perplexed.

"Why…are you here?" and I knew he was trying quite hard to not sound rude or as if he wanted me to leave.

"I just," finally it hit me and I rounded on him, as he was bent over his trunk putting his toothbrush away and looking for a tshirt. "What was that down there? What's going on? Is there something you know about it that no one else does?"

My questions were so abrupt and shouted at him that he wheeled around looking alarmed.

"There was…an attack. A massive attack, I guess, earlier tonight. It would've been around the time people were leaving work or Muggles were sitting in traffic, you know. I think some Auror's had cornered a couple of…of Death Eaters and you know, they were dueling and it just grew and half of a building got blasted away, I don't know the whole story…"

As he spoke I imagined blasts of colour and jets of sparks and people screaming – it was so unimaginable but for some reason I could piece it together perfectly in my mind. It was becoming easier to believe these stories.

"It's so terrible, it's so funny how…how real it's getting, you know?" he looked real cut up for a moment, as if he were afraid I was about to cry and James usually did well when it came to dealing with that sort of thing but he looked unsettled, giving me time to regroup and let out a long breath.

I was beginning to feel jilted, to feel awkward standing there in the dark dorm with him when with a hard, sort of blazing look and much bobbing of his Adam's apple he pulled me to him and held tightly. He was warm all over, his long, lean frame pressed flush against me and his hands crawling through my hair.

"There's going to be a revolt against it, against the dark movement; against _Him_ and these Death Eaters,-"

"Sirius's brother," I said with a gasp and he cut me off, murmuring that he knew.

"Dumbledore's organizing it," he continued and one of his hands was still in my hair, the other was resting beneath my shirt on my back, softly tickling my spine. I felt like staying there, I felt like melting and falling for him, completely, for the first time. "He wants names. It's hard to do, it has to be kept quiet…he doesn't want the wrong people finding out. Lily, if he talks to you – you're Head Girl, I think he will – he's going to ask if you're willing, if you will,-"

I pulled back and looked into his face which was contorted with concern and some internal struggle. His jaw clenched as he stared right back into my eyes and I nodded, bowing my head and then pressing my mouth against his neck, breathing deeply.

"I will, absolutely. Anything I can do, I can't imagine not doing anything, I can't imagine just standing idly by."

As I climbed into bed with him that night, as he whispered things to me that pushed the events of the day, that pushed all thoughts of NEWTs from my mind and made me laugh I realized I had committed to something huge, something important. I had given James my word, I had told him I loved him just a couple of weeks ago – I felt different, better, hopeful. Perhaps it was a bit naïve, a bit childish of me to believe that everything would be all right.

But when I was with him, when I was talking to him and reassuring everything with him, it was the easiest thing in the world to believe.

**abc.**

**Hey! I had a lot of time without internet over the last couple of months, so I had a lot of time just to write. I hope I got this up quicker than usual because of that. Thanks for all of the congrats and well wishes with exams, I got through everything fine. I graduated and got all of that over with. It's a really great time. I hope your summer's are going well and I appreciate all of the reviews, so much. **

**There was some confusion with the last chapter and I apologize for that because it was such an important chapter for Lily & James. It was, in fact, _James_ telling _Lily_ he loved her. I know it was kind of vague. **

**As for this chapter, I hope it's not too long or anything, I got a bit carried away toward the end. It also got mushier the quicker I was writing, haha. I just wanted to get this chapter up and sometimes I like a little L&J romance. Umm, I didn't check all of the facts, I was sort of blindly writing. I don't think I messed anything too major up, no big details are wrong, I don't think. The chapter title might seem...inapprorpriate the further into the chapter we go but when I started it, that's what I felt it was going to be about. The Good Life. I thought things were going to be going well for them but things always have a way of popping up when you're writing. I think, in a way, it is the good life for a bit. To Lily, things are just ideal for awhile.**

**Okay, overly long author's note. Lyrics are on my livejournal. Take care!**


	31. Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace

**Chapter 31**

"Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace"

**abc.**

"**Weighty Ghost", by Wintersleep.**

**Abc.**

I forgot what it felt like to live and live well. I forgot what it felt like to really know myself, to know what I was feeling or what I wanted or where I was going. June was a month of selflessness, of sacrifice. I became so detached, so unlike who I had been that it was strange to come back down, to meet myself again.

NEWTs and deaths were preoccupying my mind and I was not alone it. We were leaving and the world was coming apart and there was no way to be at ease with it, no way to handle it well. There was constant tension, constant worry and my head always felt heavy and if I tried to organize my mind, tried to get a handle on everything – I would end the night with a headache and abandoning my studies.

When the day of our NEWTs came, I was surprised, as if it had sprung up without any warning – As if we had not been preparing for it for weeks and weeks. I was genuinely shocked when I woke that morning to realize I had to go and sit the last test of my Hogwarts education. My stomach knotted and turned and my hands shook over breakfast but it was a physical sort of nervous – I had become strangely calm in my thoughts and I could not revise anymore, there was no room left, no desire left in me for it. I sat and ate my toast and orange and bacon and did not wonder where James was, did not talk endlessly or develop some other habit. I just sat and ate and was uncertain if I had ever been more prepared for anything before in my life.

Then it happened. We were ushered into the Great Hall and sat at desks and we took our NEWTs. It was much like fifth year when we took the OWLs and I forgot that this was not fifth year and that we were not coming back. It left me and when I would remember, would realize the earth-shattering change we were about to face – I lost my breath and my heart would race and I was not entirely sure that it was fear or panic. There was something exciting about it.

A girl passed out and it was warm and sunny in the Great Hall, the ceiling taking on the magnificent appearance of blue, blue sky and barely a cloud. They took her from the hall and she was crying and I nearly smiled, nearly laughed in the middle of the supposed most important test of my life.

Because – it didn't seem all that important anymore. For seven years we were building up to it, making our way toward it. For seven years all we were staring at were NEWTs and futures and neither seemed very important anymore. NEWTs were pointless if we were not even going to have a future and I was not depressed, not sad – I was liberated and free and _free?_ Impending doom was freedom? Somehow – yes.

I found myself wasting minutes at a time as I took the test by setting my quill down and stretching the cramp out in my hand and just _staring_ at James. It was funny the quiet that sets about a place when you're taking a test and it was no different now – though everything else was different, the scholar atmosphere was much the same. Papers rustled and people coughed – you never seem to have to cough until you're in the middle of an examination – and the sun shone in your eyes because it was June and the summer solstice had passed and he looked better than ever.

His hair had grown out better now and it was untidy as ever but he was mature and handsome and if he shifted just the right way I could see his hazel eyes gleaming in the sunlight, behind his thin black glasses. I realized I could not remember ever seeing him without his glasses off. He dropped his quill – I bit my lip, containing yet another grin – and when he bent over to pick it up his shirt raised and revealed a bit of skin. Someone coughing brought me from my daze and I noticed I was not the only girl sitting there staring at James Potter instead of writing my exam.

**Abc.**

My one goal after having finished the examination – I had rushed through the end because time was running out and the practical part had been fairly easy – was to sit by the lake and dip my feet into it. For, likely, the last time. I was not worried about – well, a career, a place to live, a direction for my life to take – but instead just sitting in the lasting sunlight and enjoying one of my last nights at the place I had, faithfully, called home for seven years.

I thought back over the last month and there was a particular conversation that I had with Bridget that stuck out. I had not told James and I was nervous to tell him and nervous to respond to her but it was probably going to be for the best. It was probably what I had to do because he had never looked at me and reassured me of anything. He did not say – Lily, we're graduating but we're going to be all right. And that made me sure that we weren't going to be all right, that he didn't expect us to be, either.

The sun was hot and people were frolicking and were as aware of the end of an era as I was. My plaid wool skirt itched and I would not miss the uniform. The stiff white shirt and itchy wool skirt, boring shoes and tie. And even as I thought of it, of my hate for it – I knew I would miss it. I would miss dressing like the schoolgirl everyday, just as much as I would miss everything else.

I had stripped my shoes and stockings off and sat on a rock and the water was still cool – it never did get overly hot in those parts in the summer – but refreshing and I felt so relieved, so happy to be done with the exam but absolutely uncertain about everything that was about to come.

Graduation was the next day and then we were to spend our last night and then leave. Leave Hogwarts and our friends and our beds and pack our things and start our lives. _Start our lives_. I did not know how this was something that was supposed to make perfect sense so soon. There was so much to take in and I was overwhelmed and understated at the same time. I was leaving the only home I had really known, loved.

It was when I saw him coming toward me, smiling and glowing in the sun was when I realized that he, too, was a feeling of home. I was leaving Hogwarts, I was moving on but if I could just keep James, could just stay close – I would never really lose that feeling of home.

"Hey," I greeted and I could hear the affection in my voice as he joined me on the smooth rock by the lake. "How did you do?"

"Not an idea," he replied, leaning in to give me a peck on the mouth. "Not too concerned, either. What about you?"

I just shrugged and looked at him, a smile tearing at my lips and cheeks. It was still so perfect to realize that I loved him, not to mention how much I loved him.

He was without his friends and lately he hadn't been – they'd be ever present and I was fond of them and cared for them and I remembered, sometimes, that _thing_ between me and Sirius that had come and gone, nearly without reason.

A breeze blew across us and it was surprising to realize it was summer, it was here so fast. I did not understand time and the way it moved so quickly but then so slowly.

His tie was loosened and the buttons of his shirt unfastened at the collar. He was still in uniform, too, and he had been this boy who could pull it off for years and years but he was not much of boy anymore. He was much more and much better and I smiled against his lips as he leaned in to kiss me again and I could not imagine what he saw in me in the beginning, what was appealing at all about a whiny, scared girl.

"James," He had pulled back and pressed a kiss to my cheekbone and he was not overly affectionate with me, he did not always grope me and when he did kiss me I was always still leaned in even after he'd pulled away.

A hand back through his hair, he turned away from me and stared out over the lake, watching the giant squid move across the lake, tentacles sticking high out of the water. He was there but distant and distracted and I could not blame him, just felt closer to him.

"I'm sorry for this month," he said before I could say what I needed to really, honestly tell him. "I'm sorry for not," Hazel eyes back on me.

"I've not offered you an ounce of assurance, I know. We've just been sort of going at this blind."

He tugged at his tie and I could imagine him tanned and toned and shirtless on a hot July today and my stomach dropped and my heart pounded and my mind was already singing _regret, regret, regret_.

Even with the warmth from the sun, the comfort of the cool grass on my feet and the burn of his lovely hazel eyes – I could feel a chill creeping down my spine, leaving little goose pimples in its wake. Lips pursed, trying to contain the words ready to spring forth from them, I reached a hand out and ran it over his neck, beneath his collar and mussed up his hair.

"Bridget's getting a place and I – I just haven't thought about any of it properly. A home, job, money...The only reasonable thing for me to do, the only – I'm going to split the rent with her, get started that way. I'm going to live with her."

**Abc.**

"Assuming Voldemort does us all in tomorrow – I think I'll have faired well on my NEWTs. If I live to see the results – Well, I'm buggered aren't I?" Sirius came sauntering down the grassy slope to the lake, where James and I sat and he had a thin cigar dangling from his mouth, all Bogart-like.

"Hear hear, mate," James greeted him and it was a snap-of-your-fingers transition from the reserved state he had been in a moment before, ignoring my news and jumping into conversation. "Bit brutal, eh?"

Sirius threw himself down onto the grass beside the two of us and chuckled a bit, the cigar still hanging there, the ash growing at the end of it.

"I had some fun with the practical part – poor bloke got his arse a bit singed from my curse, I guess. S'pose it's the end of an era, isn't it? Us Marauders – done with Hogwarts. Strange."

He took a long drag from the cigar and offered it to James who took it, dragged off it and with a sly sort of grin offered it to me. I cocked an eyebrow and he blew smoke out in a straight puff, whereas Sirius sat making smoke rings against the light blue of the sky.

I took the cigar from him and put it into my mouth, imitating Sirius with his Bogart ways and eliciting a near giggle from the two of them. It tasted of a smoky vanilla in my mouth and I sucked deeply and blew the smoke in James's direction, kissing him on the mouth afterward.

"Terribly unattractive of women to smoke, I think," Sirius commented, grabbing the remainder of the cigar from between my fingers and finishing it off. "I can pull it off."

I laughed into James's kiss, looking at Sirius over his shoulder as he trailed his fingers along my shoulder blades.

"Because, really, nothing look betters on a bloke than cancer." A shrug from him and he tossed it into the lake, leaning back on his elbows. I did not understand the sudden calm and then next moment panic. I did not understand how we had come to be comfortable, the three of us, and more than civil – Pleasant and friendly and enjoyable.

"Doesn't matter much, I wouldn't say. Might as well go out in style – could die tomorrow anyway."

Sirius had never really expressed concern over the situation before, never in the horribly pessimistic way that he was now. He had never sat and said oh well, we're going to die anyway. It chilled me, on that warm summer's day, to hear him talk so casually about being blasted away by some madman with a wand.

James said nothing to his friend for a few minutes and then Remus showed up, looking a bit flustered with his sandy hair sticking up straight as if he had run his hands back through it many times. Instead of talking about his indifference over how he faired on the exams, like the rest of us, he boasted that he was sure he had done fantastic and that if he did well on these he could get any damn job he wanted with the Ministry.

"Getting a bit ahead of yourself, Moony," said Sirius as Remus dug out his own smokes and I forgot that it was Remus who smoked and it struck me as odd that Sirius was now toting cigars around with him but I figured it was a sort of celebratory thing. "The Ministry's not about to hire a werewolf, especially these days."

Pause.

_The Ministry's not about to hire a werewolf, especially these days._

What?

Three heads turned toward Sirius – Remus had his wand pointed to his cigarette and was about to light it but instead ended up shooting the flame at his hand, burning it and cursing, James leapt into a series of profanities and I just sat curiously frowning.

_Not about to hire a werewolf._

"You bastard!" James exclaimed looking genuinely shocked with his hazel eyes wide and his eyebrows disappearing behind his fringe. "How many god damn years have we known? And you just fucking _say_ it on the last day here?"

_Boasted he had done well on the NEWTs and if he did he could get any job he wanted with the Ministry._

"Blimey Sirius, you can't just got saying it, you know? Let's hope you're not a member of the Order to end up tortured for information. Just going to spill stuff like that." James pressed on and Remus was interjecting curses every now and then – both verbal and actual ones, flying over Sirius's head as he dodged them.

_Any job he wanted with the Ministry...not about to hire a werewolf..._

"Oh my god," and it came in a rush, memories of sickness and scars and missing boys and dead grandparents and an ill mum and pale skin, dark circles, full moons. "Oh my god."

Secrets and sneaking around and scheming and that damned map and the scandal in sixth year that was hushed up, involving the three boys and Severus Snape – full moons, the whomping willow, shrieking shack, a terrified Snape, a nearly-expelled Sirius, the rift between James and him that lasted weeks, full moons, scars...

"Oh my god."

His Boggart was some kind of silvery orb and it hung there in the air before he vanished it and it was a moon, wasn't it, a full moon and the boys were awkward and did not often answer questions and McGonagall had hauled them back to the common room _so_ many nights because they were out on the grounds, and full moons and sick relatives and trips home during full moons and –

"Oh my god! Are you _serious_? What on earth – how is it even – James, really? What did Sirius mean, honestly a werewolf?" I turned to Remus and he winced and his hands were shaking as he sucked the life out the cigarette and it was what the hell, could not be true, are you _serious_?

"Surprised you haven't told the skirt before now – not exactly how I imagined her finding out, if she ever really _needed _to. Fuck, Sirius, can't keep your damn mouth shut around her." Remus mumbled and fumbled with his wand and shoved it into the pocket of his pants and pulled it out again and I had this vision of him with a snout and covered in hair and ripping some animal apart and I could not believe it.

"This lot are Animagi. Peter, too. Shrieking Shack, love? Not haunted. It's my howls you hear once a month – transformation's a bit painful, y'see. So, this lot keeps me company as Animagi. Pete's the rat – there's a knot on the Whomping Willow he presses and then Sirius – dog – and James – stag – can follow into it and come into the shack. We roam and,-"

"You're a werewolf." I said, staring.

"I'm a werewolf."

**abc.**

It was funny that on one of my last nights there at Hogwarts, I would be taken aback, surprised by the magical world once again. I had spent seven years growing familiar with the idea of strange creatures and mythical ones actually existing. I had gotten to a place of comfort with it, had begun to accept that this was in fact real – I was a witch and there were wizards and it was a strange, twisted sort of world but an amazing one.

And Remus Lupin was a werewolf. He would, once a month, turn into a snarling monster beneath the light of the full moon and with his friends by his side and would wreck havoc in the Forbidden Forest and throughout the village of Hogsmeade.

Remus Lupin – a werewolf. The three other Marauders – illegal Animagi. I could not hide my astonishment of the fact and so many things began to make sense. I remembered the incident in fifth year and James told it to me in detail. Sirius's pranking ways turned sinister and Severus Snape stuck his nose where it was not wanted. It all led to some horrible, horrible incident and Remus could have killed him and "Sirius should've been expelled", James told me.

"What stopped Snape from finding Remus?" I whispered into the becoming dark of the warm summer night, sitting next to James as people roamed the grounds and laughed and smoked and drank and somewhere in the back of my mind I was reminded of some curfew and I was Head Girl and it was really quite laughable.

He was quiet for a moment before looking over to where his friends were sitting with a group of fellow Gryffindor's and he bowed his head slightly, ruffling his hair absently.

"I did," he said and I tilted my head and listening intently. "Sirius told me what he had done – God, the stupid prat, I thought. Realized, you know, Remus would _tear_ Snape apart..."

"You saved him. You saved your worst enemy."

James shook his head and I think I would have been happier, more secure if he would talk louder, boast about it or maybe acknowledge what I had told him about my moving in with Bridget.

"Not as noble as you make it sound, love."

His friends called him over and he went to them, left me sitting there and I felt strange and guilty and in love. I admired him, wanted to be with him, could not imagine leaving him and thought he was a good person, a great person for everything he did –

And we were graduating and moving on and I was...

Tired of thinking about it all.

**Abc.**

The night had gotten late and I was exhausted and had studied for so many hours that week and the fresh air did something to my brain and pushed me even further to the brink. Needless to say I abandoned the impromptu celebrations early and made my way to the graciously empty boys dormitory. I did not feel like seeing Bridget that night and I knew it was not her fault for looking out for me, for caring about what I did with my life but it seemed like, maybe, she did not trust me to make the right decisions when it came to James.

I climbed into his bed and felt sort of sick and light-headed when I thought about the last few weeks. When I thought that this would be the last night I'd spend in his Hogwarts bed, the last night I'd spend gloriously close to him – even though he was not with me at the moment – I was uncertain about everything I'd decided on. I felt like following him everywhere and it made no sense but in the wee hours of the morning it made absolute sense.

It seemed stupid that all of my plans and ambitions were gone and then I wondered if I ever had any plans or ambitions to begin with. I could not understand the place I had gotten to, I could not understand or deal with the fact that graduation was a day away. Graduation. Everything I had worked for was a day away and it did not matter much anymore. No one was really concerned with it, people were dying and I was bitter and disappointed with the way things were turning out but I did not have the right to be. I should have been determined and fighting and doing anything I could to save, save this world like James was going to do.

But I just wanted to be with him and be sad and maybe just forever young.

**Abc.**

"**Forever Young", by Youth Group.**

**Abc.**

"Hey," I murmured, voice thick with sleep as he climbed into the bed with me. It was something I would never tire of, to wake up next to him, his warm weight next to me on the big bed.

"S'after four, for chrissakes," James groaned, stretching out next to me, his arms behind his head. "Still down there, drinking and smoking – the whole lot of 'em. Got a bit nippy out on the grounds so we moved 'er inside – where'd you go? You should've stayed, last we'll see of some of them, I'm sure.'

He rambled on and I turned next to him – both of us atop the covers of the bed and both of us still wearing our uniforms, though sloppily and missing ties – and I was not sure if he was drunk or high or both but he looked tired and finished and like I felt, like he never wanted to move from the bed.

I heard his shoes hit the floor and he turned to face me, too and with a great sight he reached a hand out and ran it down my neck.

"I love you." Another sigh and his eyes were heavy and his glasses crooked but he was so familiar and endearing and I was not sure where all of my affection for him came from.

A shiver went through me, starting where his hand was on my neck and raising the hairs on the back of it, leaving goose pimples in its wake.

There was something kind of different in his eyes as he leaned forward to kiss me and they were darker and so startling that I forgot to close my eyes and just stared as his warm mouth worked over mine and then I was shaking and pressing against him and my eyes fluttered shut.

"Bloody hell, Lily." he muttered and his lips were still pressing against me and his breath was quicker and the dorm was empty and it was the first time I had really thought about it, had really wanted to.

"You...you have, the best," James was hands now, mouth open against my neck and he spoke in this strangled voice, whispering more than anything. "fucking legs that I've _ever_ seen."

And he ran his hands not down but up from my knees and I gasped a little when he pushed my skirt up and his touch was burning and I was trembling and it was pathetic but amazing.

"Really, I don't know how I've not done this before." His glasses caught in my hair and pulled but his fingers were on my thighs and then I was gripping his shoulders and pushing him off of me, so I could sit up and then his shirt was off, on the floor and then his pants and he was in boxer shorts and my heart was leaping into my throat, my stomach had dropped out long ago...

The talking stopped quickly after that because neither of us could breathe properly and he tugged the hangings shut and it was perfectly dark in the four poster and his skin was tanned already and I was white against him and he had his hands on my bare back and then unzipped my skirt and it was down my legs and gonegonegone...

"I can't, I don't want to," his lips were red and his face was unshaven and scratchy against my shoulder as he worked his hands down my sides and it tickeld but there was this feeling, this inexplicable something in my stomach that made me feel a bit scared, excited. "go too far, just tell me,-"

"Shut up, honestly. Just shut up and just, oh..."

He nipped at my neck and shifted on the bed, sitting up for a moment and leaving me laying there – exposed, chest heaving and hair a wild, wild mess against his pillow.

Then he was above me and hands on my hips and kind of awkward and fumbling but he pulled me closer and nudged my legs apart with a hand on my thigh and I did not know what to do but reach for his glasses and put them – somewhere, I did not know – and breathe, breathe, breathe...

It was not perfect but it was living, it really was to be so close, so close to him and there was nothing between us and it was salvation and oh, I felt alive.

**Abc.**

"**Salvation", by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.**

**Abc.**

**I should be studying for, you know, my exam tomorrow. Or the ones next week. Or at least doing something but it seems the only time I can write is when I'm procrastinating. So, I apologize for the wait but I seriously pulled this together in a couple of days. It's funny when it comes to you. Take care. Lyrics on the livejournal and I do recommend all of these songs and artists. Oh, the title is umm...it's the title of the Foo Fighters latest album and the album is brilliant and I love the song "home" on it, as well. So, there you are.**


	32. Endings & Beginnings

**Chapter 32  
**"Endings and Beginnings"

**abc.**

**"New Slang", by the Shins.**

**Abc.**

"You – oh – you need to leave...before...before..." What was her name? I could never remember anything when he was all over me and on top of me and hands and lips but really, I wouldn't have it any other way. He was comfort personified, I swore.

"Before what?" And he spoke a bit too loud for the situation at hand, flushed and breathless but he felt some kind of powerful, I thought, when he was with me like this.

"Before she gets home...she might bring...bring...you know, your...your friend and that'd be – oh,"

Lips on my ear and neck and hands burning skin and it was too hot to be doing this, too hot to be holed up in my tiny bedroom and doing things we had become accustom to doing in the dark, trying to be quiet.

"A bit awkward," he grinned against my lips before rolling off of me and laying down. "Should learn to knock, I say. Have you ever walked in on them?"

I scrunched my face up and he laughed and I had never seen him so carefree, so affectionate before. Any hesitations I'd had about graduating and moving on and leaving were unfounded because he was lovely and we were actually managing and it was better than before. I missed Hogwarts and it was an actual struggle not to think about it, not to dwell on it.

Looking at him through the dark of the room, I thought of June and I thought of leaving. He was gone from the bed the morning after and how he had even managed to remain conscious let alone leave me in his bed was beyond me. It was graduation day, he had to shower and comb his hair and look handsome for his Mum when she arrived. I felt sort of sick when he gave me that explanation. I had asked him why he would _have sex with me_, I recalled hissing it like that, and then disappear barely four hours later, at 8 o'clock in the morning. Graduation was not until the afternoon and he was hung over and post-coital but just up and left me. I felt sick when he said – Well, Mum's coming early.

His Mum and his little sister were going to come and sit and watch him proudly. They were, of course, going to be here and I'd not even considered preparing for any family, had not even considered anybody but the two of us.

"Oh." I had said and shut down or what and I was ashamed and my cheeks burned and he smiled and kissed me and said he just did not want to wake me. I had expected a row but he seemed to have had matured over night, I was sure. Family was important to him and really it was not a bad quality to have and it was unfair that I was not understanding, that I jumped to conclusions.

There was a lingering moment between us as we donned our robes and prepared for the ceremony, in which I thought to ask, "how are you holding up?" because his Dad _had_ just died and he was going on without him and this, I figured, would be an important moment between father and son. The Dad was supposed to offer advice and give him an heirloom and tell him he was proud. He was supposed to clap his son on the back and tell his wife that their boy would do fine and stand tall as he walked across the stage. Graduating was important, significant, life-altering and though I was a bit numb to it, a bit uncertain of what was to come afterwards – I knew James must be torn up about it and I felt really quite useless and helpless when I could not bring myself to look in his face and ask if he was all right.

Instead I squeezed his hand and we walked down to the Great Hall together. The quiet between us during that day, the 'morning after' frightened yet calmed me all at once.

And then graduation happened, the ceremony took place with a blur of words and tears and speeches and things that were really very meaningless. Our futures were not our own. We were going to be fighting for the next generation, we were going to be lucky to be alive in a few years let alone decades. We, the graduating class of '78, had the weight of the world on our shoulders. It made me uncomfortable. I felt unworthy, I felt as if I were a letdown. I did not know what I could do and it made no sense because James told me to join the Order and talk to Dumbledore but I wasn't sure it was enough, I did not think I had anything to offer.

When the ceremony ended, as I mindlessly glided from the Great Hall to the stone steps leading away from the castle, I felt this inexplicable serenity, this dead calm greet me and I took a deep breath, stopping before descending the steps as I saw James approaching me. Down the walk a bit were his Mum and Lexi, chatting with Remus's parents and embracing Sirius, smiling and looking every bit as proud as I imagined she would.

"You want to come to my place? Celebrate and what not?" He greeted, jogging up the stairs and tugging at the collar of his robes. The sun beat down on us and it was June and summer and to describe how I felt in that moment was difficult.

"No...no, you know what? You go and I'm going to head to the flat and check it out...I've not seen it yet, so I kind of want to do that. Get settled." He nodded and he did not look so great as I remembered, his hair awkwardly flattened down and his mother's lips staining his cheeks.

I remembered the way his eyes felt on me as he stepped close and I was hot and my face flushed and my hair frizzing and I smiled when he kissed me and said he would see me soon.

Watching him walk away was the strangest thing.

But he did see me soon, the next day in fact. He helped me unpack and he took his shirt off and was tanned and freckles browned his shoulders and the sight of him was endearing as I served him lemonade and "bad porno plot" I said and he did not understand and I told him I didn't believe just because he was a Wizard he had not seen porn. He grinned like the devil and we'd never been so playful, youthful.

So, then it was three weeks into July and it was a hot month, a beautiful summer. He came over to the flat more often than I went to his place – for some reason I felt returning there with his Mum and his Dad gone and Sirius likely hanging around, I felt it would be a step back. I felt like it would reverse any growing up I'd manage to do, going back to his place of childhood. James didn't say it but I thought maybe he felt the same.

"I've never walked in on them, no. Actually, I don't even know if they're like that – do you? They don't seem much like a couple, do you think?" I asked and he shrugged, yawned, rumpled his hair.

"They don't need to be a couple to be doing _that_, you know, love."

I rolled my eyes, swatted his hands away from my hips and turned to face him.

He seemed stuck. He seemed happy sometimes but others just...stuck. He could be smiling and then completely serious and there was something unsaid between us but he seemed plagued with indecision. I did not want to provoke it, did not want to cause issue where there was none.

"Lily," but that unsaid something came forth that night, three weeks into July and there was a full moon coming up and we were spending time together before then because he was still completely devoted to his friends, still with Remus when he needed his friends.

"James." I was teasing but his eyes were lidded and he stared at my mouth and then nose and then directly into my eyes and he looked overwhelmed and maybe sad.

"I have to go," And as the words left his mouth I was not surprised. Expecting it even, maybe. "The Order – it's starting up and...I know you don't want to be a member yet and that's fine, you know? I don't blame you," I averted my eyes because I was still embarrassed that he was full of determination and heroism and I was not. "But it's going to be hard for awhile. Dumbledore – it's...he actually wants me to go, there's this...mission, I s'pose. Not a lot of details but I won't be around here and..."

"If you have to go, James, then you have to go," I murmured and put a hand to his chest and his heart was drumming rapidly against my fingertips. "I'm not going to tell you not to, I'm not going to stop you from being, oh, nobel and brave." I grinned but he swallowed hard and nodded and closed his eyes.

"I love you, Lily." and it'd been said before and probably would again but I could feel it, really feel it just then. My eyes were wet and I kisskisskissed him a hundred times, slept with him once more and he left the next day.

**Abc.**

**  
**

**"The Angels Hung Around", by Rilo Kiley.**

**  
**

**Abc.**

It was the end of August, nearly the first of September and I wondered what it would feel like to not be going back to Hogwarts. I wondered where I would be when the clock turned eleven and if I would feel it, would feel the longing for that world and estrangement from it. I got some strange, creepy urge to go to Platform 9 ¾ anyway and watch all of the smiling, unaware students bound from their parents to the train, scarcely remembering to wave them off. I realized I was living in the past like no other and it had become a sad little dance that I enjoyed doing. Reliving my days at school, remembering the happier times, the better years, the good friends. It was not normal for one to dwell inside of their head so often.

Bridget worked a lot. She'd gotten a job at the Leaky Cauldron and it was a good place for her to eavesdrop on conversations and find out things for the Order that cloaked strangers unknowingly offered to her. Sometimes I forgot Ray had been killed, died back in January and she was so strong and prepared and I felt weak and petty compared to her. If anyone should be afraid, it should be someone who lost to the Death Eaters and dark movement but rather she just fought harder.

And Sirius took every chance to point that out to me. He, too, was apparently involved in the Order but certainly not to the extent that James or even Remus was. I imagined it was a bit contradictory, some would think, that one Black was in the Order of the Phoenix, keen on defeating Lord Voldemort and Death Eaters and his own brother was one of them. His own brother and Bellatrix, his cousin and countless others whom he shared blood with. I imagined people had their doubts about him, though he spent his whole life separating himself from his family. He was a boy who never seemed to trust too deeply and I wondered if it was because no one trusted him.

But he'd come over during the day when Bridget was gone – the two continued to carry on some thing, some _fling_ and I was certain they weren't in love or even cared for one another. I also did not know if they slept together or if they just holed up in her room and talked. Often, they weren't even at the flat together – Sirius would come calling and then they'd leave. It was strange. It was isolating. It was the only thing I was curious about.

He'd come over and drink my beer and eat my food and watch my Muggle television and sometimes he'd sit there and offer up any insult he could. Ask me how I was affording rent, ask me what the hell I did with my day, my months, my summer because I did not have a job and I was not affiliated with the Order. He'd offer up snide remarks over my and James's relationship.

It'd been a month since James left and I hadn't heard a word from him.

I didn't pay attention to Sirius when he would start ranting at me. I would sit quietly and read or whatever I had been doing and I wouldn't offer him any acknowledgement. Sometimes in my head I'd be screaming back at him and telling him what a prick he'd become but for some reason I just took the abuse and chalked it up to Sirius needing the attention.

He hadn't changed much since we graduated – hadn't found some previously foreign ambition and ran off to get a job or any of it. He wasn't exactly carefree, for someone who had little responsibility and heaps of money. He seemed to sit around as much as I did and I figured that he'd had a falling out with Remus, too. The only sort of change that happened in him was he seemed to be connecting with his inner Black and acting a lot more bitter and like his abandoned family.

It was funny to me that in the middle of a hot sticky summer, Sirius did not wear shorts. He'd show up in a pair of ratty thread-bare jeans and either a grey tshirt or a darker coloured one. It was not entirely unbecoming, his scruffy appearance, but it was a bit far off from the standards he'd held at Hogwarts.

But I supposed we were all a bit far off from the standards we'd held in school.

**Abc.**

August was a stormy month and though I was eighteen years old and on my own I still felt childish when the wind would come up and the thunder would crack and lightening flash. Sirius seemed to be around a lot of the time when the sky would darken and thunderheads would roll in and each time it rained the grass would grow longer, greener and it was hard to think of summer coming to an end.

"Are you afraid of thunderstorms?" He asked rather darkly one afternoon as the familiar rumble of thunder in the distance struck up.

"No. Well, I don't really enjoy them...at all, I guess." I told him, sitting side by side on the couch – he sipping a butterbeer and I had lemonade – with our feet propped on the table and he clicked the television off when the lightening struck and we could see it was chain lightning, connecting with the ground somewhere and I imagined the surge of electricity, the jolt it would give...

If there were two people, I thought, who needed a jolt more than anyone, it was us. We'd been leading sedentary lives and the thought of a vacation, of travelling somewhere and enjoying the sun or the beach never occurred to me. When James left, it all seemed to stop and it was not much of a summer anymore.

Sometimes we talked about Remus and I was curious about his whole werewolf thing and I felt as if maybe it was being exploited in the Order. For, that's why they valued him most. There were werewolves coming out and joining Voldemort and they needed one of their kind to get in on it, to find out the secrets. He could not get a decent paying job, or one at all, but Dumbledore seemed mighty prepared to send him out among killers to get the scoop. I could not take a stand on the whole thing.

I looked to him as big drops of rain began pounding against the roof and windows and I wondered if this strange, figment of Sirius Black was the only constant I had in my life at the moment. I wondered if this relationship, friendship was the only one I really relied on anymore and this was what we both had become.

**Abc.**

Where Sirius and Bridget had either failed or not bothered to try, Remus succeeded. He showed up to my flat one evening in the autumn – sometime near the end of September and the months had an extraordinary tendency to pass without my even being aware of it – and, well, pointed me in the right direction.

Since we had graduated, I'd hardly seen him. It wasn't something I was terribly heart-broken about – He did not take me finding out about his werewolf ways very well. Though it was Sirius who had opened his big mouth and told me, it somehow translated into being my fault. I was sympathetic for him for a moment perhaps but he glared at me on graduation day and told me to keep it to myself. He did not trust me with it and I was insulted but assured him I wouldn't tell a soul.

I'd been asleep on the couch when he showed up and it was sometime after eight and the sun was setting, though there was still a nice glow to the darkening sky. The weather was still nice, not particularly warm but there had not been a frost yet. I took that as a good sign and continued to slouch around in shorts and tank tops and I'd gotten a rather respectable tan during the summer but had also managed to gain weight. That's what sitting around drinking with Sirius or going to visit Bridget at the pub had done to me.

"Lily, wake up." He demanded and it was gruff and muffled, a cigarette between his lips and he rose his fingers to steady it as he took a drag off of it and where I had gained weight, he had lost. Where I had tanned, he had paled. He looked beat up and horrible and I had learned to expect it around the full moon but he just looked down and out and I figured this is what the Order had done to him. I did not want to think of James and his handsome face and thick hair and how he might look now. Covered in bruises and cuts and wasting away to jagged cheekbones and protruding wrist-bones – I had not heard from him since he'd left in July and if anyone else had, they weren't telling me. That would have been a positive of being in the Order – knowing how he was and where he was and _what_ was going on in the world...

At first, back in June, I'd just been afraid to join. I just needed a little coaxing maybe and a little assurance and some information and I would have been fine. But James left and that was one blow and graduating was another and feeling tragically alone was another...and then any desire I'd had to do something, anything had left me and then I was just embarrassed. I'd started out afraid and then bitter and then just horribly embarrassed and ashamed with myself.

"Wake the hell up." He said again and ashes dropped to the floor and burned a hole in the carpet as he tugged the pillow from beneath my head and thrust it onto my face.

I shouted, startled and sat up with my heart beating rapidly against my chest.

"You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack," I cursed and threw the pillow at him, hair a wild mess about my face. "What are you doing here?"

He was dressed in some shabby robes and his face seemed suddenly and deeply lined for such a young man and I even thought I saw grey in his sandy blonde hair. The empathy I expected to ebb back in for him didn't happen as I stared at his disheveled appearance. I did not care he looked as if hell warmed over and I did not care he was doing God knows what for the Order, amongst dark wizards and bad, bad men. For once, I thought, I was as bitter toward him as he was to me.

"You were the smartest damn witch in our year," The past tense in his voice made me wince. "You were the most prepared, the most ambitious girl I knew. Head Girl – honestly, did you not have it all? Did you not have the brightest future of anyone? And now what? Now this?" I thought that maybe I should have been feeling disappointed and ashamed in that moment but the more he spoke, the angrier I became.

"What of it?" I muttered, crossing my arms and not wanting to be berated, too, for my appearance.

"Join the Order," Remus said and there was a finality in his voice that suggested there was no other option. "Or just sit around here."

I shrugged and he rolled his eyes and the living room was smoky and I willed Bridget to come home and save me.

"I think, really, this is your chance to start caring. You had your right and your time to be heart-broken and listless but it's over now. You need to start something or you're just going to bloody _fade_, Lily."

He looked exhausted as he finished his cigarette and snubbed it out against his sneaker and then tossed the butt into the rubbish bin by the sofa. I was still angry but it was more because this was Remus Lupin talking to me and not someone else, not someone who actually cared about me. It took Remus to knock sense into me, to offer me advice and I felt my cheeks burn as he just stood staring at me.

"Okay," I said, nodding and standing. "All right – fine."

**abc.**

"Do you think he'll notice what a god damn blimp I am?" I smoothed the creases from my skirt and tugged at my top and sucked my stomach in and hunched my shoulders up to try to regain the proportions I once had.

"Uh, what do you mean?" Sirius asked not bothering to look up from the paper.

"I've bloody well gained a hundred pounds. Do you think he'll notice?"

He brought his gaze up, beginning at my feet and trailing up my legs but not quite making it to my face, instead lingering on my chest and not bothering to hide the fact.

"Bloody hell, bloke'll have to be blind not to notice. Your tits are huge, by the way. Hundred pounds – really?"

I turned in the mirror and cupped my breasts, lifting them and screwing my face up.

"Obviously not _really_ but enough. Shit."

I never had a generous sized chest, nothing too remarkable about my measly A-nearly-B cup. They were never my best assets, never something boys seemed to notice or James had a particular appreciation for. And now they were huge. Overflowing. Obscene. Pornographic. I'd bought an entire new wardrobe of bras and had never had cleavage before but now I could've had cleavage in a turtleneck, I swore.

"I don't think he's going to quite mind, Lily," Sirius smirked but it was not just my chest. My once flat but never toned stomach was now a bit paunchy and my hips curved out differently and my backside had even spread out. "Who's to say he'll even show up?"

True, I supposed. It was my first meeting with the Order and Sirius had admitted that James and the rest who were off trotting around Europe on mission would show up to the meetings sometimes and offer news and information. He'd only mentioned it after I had agreed to join and met with Dumbledore. He seemed to brighten up, seemed to regain a semblance of who he'd once been. Perhaps he was just lonely, too.

So, I went to the meeting and sat through the meeting and the things they spoke of were scary and real and my mind took awhile to connect the two. I forgot that the attacks and deaths and disappearances they spoke of in a dimly lit, full room were reality. I forgot that there were things bigger than me out there, more important than me.

And James did not show up.

**Abc.**

It was a couple of weeks later, into October and into wearing pants and long-sleeved shirts again, that I would finally see him. The leaves had started turning and the sky was blue and the air crisp and he came stumbling back into my life.

I'd taken a place at Saint Mungo's. Certainly not a Healer – complete lack of education for any job of that degree – but I figured it was a position not-quite equivalent to that of a Muggle nurse. I did not remove objects from anyone or try to reverse mentally damaging curses and did not perform healing charms on anything that I could not immediately identify. I basically just sopped up blood and tried to fix cuts that did not turn colour or anything. I ran around a lot and told Healers where they were needed and sometimes there were secretive injuries that had occurred within the Order and I had to conceal the patients and put them in some room where no other patients could find them and it was...It was a lot and it was all of a sudden. But it was work and it was distraction and it was gratifying.

The pay was modest – next to nothing, really – and I did not need it terribly because my father had sent me a good sized cheque at graduation and I'd been living off of that and was a Sirius Black in my own right, I supposed. And he seemed oddly proud of me, seemed to consider me worthy of kindness and friendship again. I told him, I said – you could've told me I needed to get things together, you could've put me in my place before Remus. I would've listened, I would've appreciated it.

When I saw James again, when he showed up and came back...it was late. It was after midnight and I often was stuck with the shoddy hours that no one else wanted. I'd work over night or I'd work early in the morning and I looked ragged and tired but had not lost any weight. It was late and quiet and I was sitting sipping a coffee when I heard the doors to the Emergency area open and I brushed a strand of hair from my damp forehead, raised my eyes and...saw his.

I stood, dropped my coffee but waved my wand to catch it before it spilled, and I walked toward him – and it was the first time I felt my stomach drop, first time I felt sick at the injuries before me and quite less than invincible.

"Lily," the Medi-witch who was leading him in addressed myself and the others sitting around waiting for something to happen and motioned behind her for more to follow. "Fair number of injuries, you gotta clean 'em up fast and get them out of here. Get the worse-off ones to Healers. It's an Order thing."

The other girls sped off to tend to the injuries and I stood awkwardly right in front of him and my heart was pounding painfully in my throat and sweat beaded on my forehead as I waved my wand and took control of the stretcher and got him out of the corridor.

"Oh God," I murmured over and over and he was unconscious but I was protective and did not want to pass him off to a Healer until I could see _what_ was wrong and where all of that blood was coming from...

A warm seemed to spread from my heart through my veins when I heard him speak.

"Nice practical shoes there, Lily." And they were white and typical for that profession and splattered in his blood.

He was not smiling but grimacing and he was a greenish pale and he was out again as I set to work on his gaping chest wounds, hardly daring to breathe as he gasped in pain and I did not want to kill him so I shouted for a Healer and nearly collapsed the moment I was out of the room.

I remembered what it was like to love him, sick with worry and wanting nothing more in that moment for him to quit bleeding and just come home.

**  
**

**Abc.****  
**

**"Home", by Foo Fighters.****  
**

**Abc.**

**Hey guys - So, I want to apologize for some confusion with this chapter. Originally I posted it yesterday at around 3 A.M. and was tired and in a hurry. I noticed when I was going through it though that I hadn't edited some of it and some parts had gotten cut out and mixed up, so instead of fixing it last night I just removed it. But here it is, hopefully complete and not messed up. There are two versions of this chapter which...is something for me but I reworked the first part and it actually helped rewriting it. If only I had the time to rewrite everything. I'm on spring break - "reading week" - right now, so I found the time to do this (though I should've been doing assignments) becaues I knew if I did not write a chapter soon, I wouldn't get a chance to. The next couple of months are busy, so I wanted to offer something. Enjoy. I think it's kind of a transition chapter and sets it up nicely for the next one, which should be more interesting. And...I think you should expect, in a few chapters, for it to come to an end. When I get to the right point, I'll know, I suppose.**

**Thanks to those who do review, I really appreciate it.**

**Kaitlyn.**


	33. With Arms Outstretched

**Chapter 33  
**"With Arms Outstretched"

**abc.**

**"With Arms Outstretched", by Rilo Kiley.**__

**Abc.**

There was a day in October that was unusually warm and out of place for the autumn season. It was a step back to the middle of July and hot summer days, warm summer nights. The air was warm and hung still, no crisp breeze forcing sweaters onto bodies. It was a strange thing, I thought, the warm air, pulsing sun with the leaves turning colour and falling down. That day, it seemed, more than just myself felt out of place.

I woke that morning and I felt confused to hear birds through the window, found my bedroom was stifling and had to let the window open. The chirping grew louder and it was a happy sound, a lovely thing to hear. The sky was blue but not autumn blue and somehow there is a difference between autumn blue skies and summer blue skies. It was a summer blue sky and I wondered what sort of magic had been worked on me while I slept.

It was similar, I thought, to being a child in the Muggle world and turning the television on in summer and seeing an old episode from Christmastime and you were sitting there beading with sweat but they were bundled up with scarves and hot cocoa on the screen. As a child it played with your mind and I found the remarkable weather doing the same for me that day.

Somehow I found my mind wandering to people in warm climates and how they dealt with that sort of thing. What it was like to wake on Christmas and see nothing but sunshine and green grass. I did not know if I could adjust, if my feeling of displacement would fade.

I was feeling displaced for more than that, however, and sighed and left my bedroom to descend the stairs to a quiet, empty flat. Bridget was gone and she was not often there but I just went to the kitchen and prepared some fresh fruit – melon and oranges was all we had – and a glass of iced tea, dressed inappropriately for the season but fitting for the weather in a red one-piece that extended into boyshorts. I felt glamorous in the one-piece and my big, round sunglasses. Glamorous and alone yet oddly content. I took my fruit and drink out to our small back deck – it was really just a set of steps descending into the slight backyard we had – and sat myself in the warm sun.

James had been injured probably about three days ago and I'd contacted Sirius as soon as I'd gotten sense back to me and the two of us sat together through the night. We'd fallen asleep awkwardly in the chairs and it worried me so deeply that no one had come through the doors to tell us anything since they'd taken him in. Perhaps it was private or secret or just too gruesome to share. Perhaps they had not expected me to stick around – or did not even know who he was to me. After we had woke, though, at around 5 in the morning, Sirius with a hoarse, gruff voice said he'd be right back and left through the doors to find something out.

In the five to ten minutes that he was gone, none other than Mrs. Potter showed up. My face fell and I realized I was daft for not calling on her first and I looked around wildly for somewhere to disappear to. Too late, she spotted me. Dani demanded some information from me – a Healer or an Order member had sent word to her – and I told her I did not know anything. When she finally did find out what was happening, how he was, she returned – she was dressed in an elegant set of mauve robes and her hair was set in curls and her lips painted and I felt disheveled next to her, embarrassingly realizing that his blood still covered my shoes – and banished me from the hospital, telling me not to visit him again if I was just going to be useless in it all.

So, I did not visit him again. He was alive and he was groggy and in pain and they'd mended as much as they could but it would take weeks and weeks for him to fully recover. Sirius delivered me the message before Mrs. Potter personally escorted me away from the ward and I Apparated home. I stared back helplessly at him but felt a bit hopeful that at least he cared if I knew what was happening or not.

And Sirius did send me owls throughout the days that I had been away from the hospital, I even dropped out on my shifts for those days. He told me there was not much of a change and there wouldn't be and James wasn't completely comprehensive, so he hadn't said much but the moment he asked for me, Sirius promised, he'd come get me himself.

I was perhaps angry that Mrs. Potter so easily disregarded me but then I did not really blame her because who was I to her? James had left and we did love one another, had been in love at some point but he'd been gone so very long...

It was understandable that she did not consider me important in it all, I had just sat there and could tell her nothing about it, so she sent me away. She was his Mum, she did want what was best for him – I wondered if someday I would be able to understand where Dani was coming from, how a mother's mind worked. It was scary to think about.

Since we had graduated, since James had left, I had sort of begun my gradual descent back into a Muggle life. I still used my magic and carried my wand but chose to have electricity and a television and a radio. I liked the idea of having a phone to communicate but since no one else did, nor did we. Our lack of phone and possession of an owl was really the only thing remotely Witch-like about our flat. Bridget was pureblood but also interested in electricity and things and embraced the idea of outside entertainment.

I felt guilty for my temporary abandonment of most things magical and I still appreciated being a Witch, still reflected warmly on my years at Hogwarts but I figured that since I had managed to, essentially, get stuck in my post-Hogwarts life, I should try something different. Something different but familiar, something that was a lost part of me and maybe in order to fix who I was now –

I didn't know. I was grasping at straws. I laughed to myself as my thoughts got carried away and I sipped my iced tea and leaned my head back and thought of peace and change and how I could hear an aeroplane overhead and whenever I did, whenever that connection with the Muggle world was brought up I felt this overwhelming sense of loss, of sadness, of freedom. I squinted over my sunglasses and followed the contrail with my eyes and breathed deep and _let's get this together, Lily_.

**Abc.**

**"Big Guns", by Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins.**

**Abc.**

"Shit – I don't know how to do the Heimlich maneuver! We learned about it in Muggle studies, only reason I know what it's called. There must be a spell to get it out of you, right? Shit,-"

I was choking on an iced cube. Sirius had popped in, literally arriving directly behind me and shouting my name and startling me so badly I sucked in the iced cube that I had sipped from my glass and it immediately lodged painfully in my throat.

"Can you do it yourself?" He asked, near hysterics, standing with his wand pointed at me but with no idea what to do. I grabbed onto his shirt and hauled myself up from the step, sweat beading on my forehead, and threw myself at the railing, jerking it up under my ribcage until the iced cube flew from my throat.

Gasping and clutching my throat, I turned on him and jabbed his Adam's apple. "How's it feel?" I asked angrily, throwing my sunglasses off and glaring at him, my hair sticking to my damp face.

"You were...entirely," still unable to catch my breath, for every time I took one the pain from the where ice had been stole it. "useless. I could have...died!"

He stared at me, one hand on his own throat and the other holding my sunglasses he had caught.

"It would've...melted eventually," Sirius said lamely and I closed my eyes, raising a shaky hand to tug my hair back. "Sorry." He added sheepishly and he did look it.

I relaxed and leaned against the rail, folding my arms and raising an eyebrow at him. Aside from the fact I nearly met my end while he stood by like an arsehole, it was kind of amusing to see Sirius Black in a state of panic, his face all screwed up and he looked about eight when he tugged on his hair.

"Alright then?" He cautioned and I nodded, rubbing my neck and shoulder. I realized I probably looked kind of amusing, as well, wearing a one-piece hot-pantsed swimsuit in the middle of October, my white freckled skin nearly florescent in the bright sunlight.

"Well, I have some news," he started and took a place leaning on the opposite rail to mine. "First of all – We caught some Death Eaters and by we, you know, I mean the Order and...whoever the hell did it because it wasn't me. But props to them, yeah? Revenge and all of that, injured some of our best guys. Second of all – Mrs. Potter was kind out of line with the whole 'get out of this hospital that you work in and is open to the public and do not come back' thing. And she probably is sorry but, you know, her husband's dead and James is old enough that he doesn't have to listen to her and I guess you're the only one she can really lay the iron fist down on. Third of all – and you'll probably be happy about this one – James is awake!" His enthusiasm was endearing. "And aware of what's going on for once and he's in pain and stuff but he's talking and remembers what happen, so it's a good thing. He's getting better."

I stared at him and frowned and nodded and then leapt into his arms and embraced him and kissed his cheek and said thank god over and over again.

"Oh, and he's asked where you are," Sirius grinned and then for the first time looked down at what I was wearing. "And...what the hell do you have on? Are you wearing a swimsuit...in October?" He looked cheerful as he asked it and I reminded him that he nearly let me choke to death before Apparating directly to the Potter household.

I was familiar enough with it by now that I knew which floor James's bedroom was on and I went directly there, avoiding any lurking Dani Potter unless she was actually at his bedside...

His door was open slightly and I peered inside before entering, checking that his Mum was in fact not present. I knocked and was breathless as I entered the dark bedroom and there was a chill to it that was not in the outside air. I rubbed my arms as I approached his bed and I was sitting on the edge of it before he opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Lily, hi," James said quietly, eyes wide and I swallowed and smiled, reaching a hand out to squeeze his leg. "Heard you were the first to try to stitch me back together." He quirked his lips at me and put his hand over my own. My heart and stomach both leapt and I was glad that those feelings had not left me.

"Yeah – don't you remember? You made a quip about my shoes." I smiled further and took a few deep breaths before leaning toward him and pressing my lips to his brow, looking him closely in the eyes.

"Scarcely. How prickish of me, the first words I get to say to you in months is about your attire." He chuckled quietly and he might have been awake and better but he still looked hellish, pale and in pain. There was only so much that even magical medicine could do, I supposed.

"You bled all over those shoes. I threw them out rather than clean them." It was true and he looked concerned, tugging me closer until I crawled up the bed and curled into him.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he muttered and I found comfort in the arm he wrapped around my back, in the way my head went to his chest and his breathing was slow and steady and reassuring. "Got scared myself, too."

I nodded against him and inhaled his clean, fresh but slightly musky scent and could not imagine how I survived without him for all of those months. It felt like years. He seemed so older now.

"I'm glad you're okay."

James seemed perhaps to be in a sensitive frame of mind because I heard him swallow a few times and he choked on his words, "I've missed you so much" and I kissed his neck gently, my eyelashes fluttering against his chin as I looked up at him. He was strong but just momentarily broken and I had entire, immense hope and expectations that he would be okay, he would pull through this for the better.

I wondered, as we quietly lay in his dark, chilly room, if he would leave again once he was better. Or if he'd play the hero and leave before he was even fully healed. I wondered if Dumbledore and the Order would give him a break, or if he'd done good enough work that they were going to send him off again. I did not even fully know what he had been doing, what sort of mission he'd been on. I didn't know it had been that dangerous, I assumed he purposely failed to inform me of that.

"Mum's out – said she wanted to pick some things up for me, if you're wondering," he gave me a grin and squeezed my shoulder as I sighed. "Or, what is it that's bothering you?"

I stayed silent for a moment, pulling away from him and sitting cross-legged beside him, rubbing my palms down my bare legs.

"It's just that – I've sort of been in this hole since you left. I did get the job at Saint Mungo's and I did, I don't know, enjoy my summer a bit but I can not imagine losing you again. I can't imagine having to say goodbye again and keep saying goodbye until you come back to me bloody dismembered..."

James gave a curt nod and pressed his lips tight together, bowing his head and looking at his hands. He was propped up against the backboard with a couple of pillows in behind him and he looked smothered in pillows and duvets and there were three different cups on his bedside stand. One with orange juice, another with iced water and a straw, the third was a mug of coffee or tea and I could just imagine Mrs. Potter doting on him...

"Could you let open the window a bit? Stuffy in here, I've not moved in two days now. Just sort of wallowing in my own stink." He scrunched his nose and I nodded, crawling out of the bed and going to the window to pull back the curtains and push the heavy window up.

The sun instantly lit up the room and the warm air from outside streamed in but brought with it a bit of freshness. James blinked against the light as it washed across his bed and beamed into his eyes. He took a deep breath and then looked at me, standing in front of the window and relishing the feel of the warmth on my body.

"You look rather spectacularly hot right now," he said curiously, tilting his head as he watched me. I put my hair behind my ears and brushed my bangs aside. "That a onepiece? In October?" He laughed a hoarse laugh and I shrugged.

"It is summertime warm out, I swear," and he laughed again and I appreciated seeing the crinkly smile on his face.

"Oh yeah? Turn around," he made a twirling motion with his hand and up on tiptoes, hands out to the side as if I were a ballerina, I turned on the spot and stopped when I was back to him. I looked over my shoulder and raised my eyebrows, to which he nodded approvingly and I laughed. "Well, you're sure dressed as if it's summertime warm out."

It felt playful with him again, youthful. It felt like it had before he left. That day was a strange, strange step back in time.

"And your legs, holy hell, Lily. I don't care if it's thirty below zero in the middle of a blizzard, you are never to wear pants again."

I felt silly, I felt giddy, my heart was drumming in my chest as I looked at him. There was no way, really, to explain how I was feeling. It was relief, it was affection, he was everything I had been missing.

When I rejoined him on the bed, I sat next to him and crossed one of my legs over his torso, both of his hands grasped it and rubbed up and down. I laid a hand against his chest and he winced slightly but settled into it as I glided it up to his neck and then face. His eyes were hazel and alight and made my cheeks tingle with colour as they bore into my own. I wanted to kiss him.

He did kiss me and it was the familiar something I'd forgotten of and his lips were kind of dry and his face scratchy against my own but I did not care, it felt lovely and I wanted to be as close as possible to him...

"We can't," James gasped against my mouth and I'd managed to get his arms out of his shirt and up around his neck and when he pulled away, I pulled away and gasped myself when I looked at his chest.

"Oh my god," The wounds were bandaged but obviously weeping through the bandages and it was a bloody greenish colour and I'd never seen magically induced wounds before and it was rough.

"Well, no, I'd be willing to suffer through the pain of those – I just mean, well, apparently I'm lucky to even be conscience right now, so I don't really want to faint or seizure on you, yeah? And my mum could be back at any moment,-"

Speak of the devil, her voice echoed up the hall and I put a hand over my mouth, looked wildly around and considered the situation we were in. I could not stay, not in this skimpy little bathing suit that showed off all the weight I'd gained in one place particularly, not with James' shirt around his neck and not with her, well, hating me. I wondered when I would see him again if I left now...

"Owl me or have Sirius do it or something,-" I jumped from the bed and straightened myself, preparing to Disapparate home.

"Lily, I love you and maybe we can get married or something,-"

I had disappeared before I could even react or even be sure that I had heard him, married did he say?

"Hey there – what're you wearing? – do you want an early dinner? I made a salad, could have some chicken with it? Open a bottle of wine? Lily?"

"Bridget," I went to find her in the kitchen once arriving back to the flat and my heart was hammering hard and I found my breath coming in quick little bursts. "Bridget, James,-"

"Is he alright?" She exclaimed and I noticed that Sirius was there too and I held a hand up to stop her, trying to catch my breath.

"He's doing better. Awake and – Bridget, I think he might've just proposed."

**abc.**

**"More Adventurous", by Rilo Kiley.**

**Abc.**

**Hey. Summertime + Happiness Writing. So, enjoy! Thanks to reviews, they're appreciated. PS - I'm really digging Rilo Kiley's newest album, Under the Blacklight. Also, I'm rediscovering Rabbit Fur Coat and Sun, Sun, Sun by Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins & The Elected (respectively) and am in love with the albums once again. Check 'em out.**


	34. Free Bird

**Chapter 34  
**"Free Bird"

**abc.**

**"When I Go", by Slow Club.**

**Abc.**

Near the end of October, sometime after I'd seen James and before Halloween – I fell ill. It was the kind of ill I hadn't experienced before, some sort of wretched torture on my mind and body. I had spent a couple of times sick in bed at Hogwarts with the flu and as a child I'd get a chest infection every winter, I swear, but this was some painful combination of every kind of bad I had ever felt.

Healers told me I'd likely picked something up wandering around St. Mungo's and I was contagious and infected and couldn't work and couldn't leave my bedroom not to mention the flat. I had a itchy, burning rash over my neck and chest and my throat was painful and swollen. My head throbbed and my stomach turned and I vomited at the slightest suggestion of food. I spent days dehydrated and feverish and desperate for sleep that rarely came. I was miserable and ill and James Potter's proposal was far from my mind.

The medication I took had awful side-effects and burned on the way down, making my throat more raw and scratchy. Oftentimes, back up the medicine would come and I'd have to choke down another dose of it and I figured magic was useful for this sort of thing but whatever illness I had wasn't going away easily.

Bridget, with her face covered so she wouldn't have to share my air, would tend to me most nights and give me whatever I needed but she didn't want to get sick, so she stayed away as much as she could and I spent days and days – over a week – just lying there helplessly, waving my wand and cleaning up my own sick.

James's proposal – had it been a proposal? – lingered in the back of my mind a bit and when I did think about it, when my feverish head did recall his words I wondered if they were real or some vague hallucination I'd had when my fever developed. My head burned and dripped with sweat that gathered on my back and chilled my body and then I would forget about it and forget about him and what kind of girl disregarded a marriage proposal?

Immediately after I'd left James's bedroom that day, I was greeted with Bridget and Sirius preparing to have dinner and once I had told them about the proposal, Sirius had sat me down, looked me in the eyes and said he completely doubted James would be mad enough to suggest marriage. I promised that's what James had said and Sirius, gently as if he were talking to an oblivious widow, told me I was wrong and I wasn't going to marry James.

I thought maybe Sirius' saying that prior to my illness had it carry over into my illness and that was where my doubt, my hallucinations, my detachment came from.

"Merlinbloodychristhell." I gasped in one breath, voice hoarse and quiet and throat burning unpleasantly from the action.

Sirius stood at my bedroom door on Halloween afternoon dressed in some costume that was a bit too realistic, given his head looked partially severed at the neck, not unlike Nearly Headless Nick, Gryffindor's ghost.

"Pretty good, eh?" He looked oddly transparent, as well. I didn't find it particularly amusing.

"Shut up," I rasped, massaging my chest and it had been over a week since I'd fell ill and a couple of days since I was contagious. "You terrified me."

"That's what I'm going for," Sirius grinned and he adjusted his costume a bit as I propped myself up against the pillows. "Not sure where exactly I'm headed to, Bridget mentioned some kind of party somewhere." He shrugged.

I offered a nod and said I'm sure they'd have fun.

"And you, my dear, could pull this costume off yourself. Still look as if death warmed over."

"Ever the flatterer." I sighed and I had all of those post-illness feelings – Hair a matted mess, skin kind of greasy, horrible taste in my mouth and my head felt heavy and throbbed if I moved too quickly. My lips were dry and skin pale and it irritated me to see Sirius smile.

He flashed his white teeth again and glanced at himself in the mirror before retreating from the doorway but paused and turned back for a moment.

"If you feel you can make it downstairs, you might have some company at some point in the evening."

**abc.**

Oh, he looked good. Recovered and well and tan and lean. His hair was a shaggy black mess and his glasses kept sliding down his nose as he stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at me. He wore jeans and a grey tshirt and I did not think I'd ever seen him look so good. He always looked some kind of good but he looked genuinely handsome that day and his hazel eyes were alight behind his frames.

"You've been ill." He said and I nodded, descending a couple of stairs. Sirius and Bridget had left a couple of hours ago and I had been preparing to drag myself downstairs to the kitchen when I heard someone enter the flat and there were only a select few who could do so...

My first thought was that I hoped it not to be Remus because his company was often stressful albeit enlightening and he had come to visit a couple of times while I was sick but he basically talked mission and Order and I was bored but also glad that the news of James's proposal had not been passed on to him. I could not imagine what he would have to say.

"I've come to visit a couple of times. Just got the okay myself to get out of bed – you've been out of commission each time, though. Definitely worried about you."

I smiled and met him at the bottom of the stairs.

"No one said you'd been to visit. I likely would have felt a bit better knowing you were better, too. Your mum finally off your back a bit?"

He dragged a hand back through his thick, tangled hair and nodded.

"Not got much of a choice, she hasn't. Healer said I'm fine, I can do as I please."

James smiled all white teeth and high cheekbones – the angles of that boys' features often had me in fits of jealousy.

We went to the living room to sit and the sun was just starting to set and it really was a perfect evening. There was a chill to the air that came with autumn but the sun shone strong and the sky had been blue and leaves rustled and fell and it startled me to realize it was autumn again already. Autumn again.

Not a second after we'd sat together on the sofa, James had stood back up and his hand was through his hair again and he rubbed his neck and then his face. He did not look at me and I dreaded to hear any further bad news from his mouth.

"So...so what've you been doing? I mean, well, you've been ill but...b-but what did you...do while you were in bed?" It was painful to watch him, face contorted and frowning, eyes squinted up as he looked to me and then back at nothing.

"Uh," I faltered for a moment and blinked up at him. "I just kind of laid in bed and vomited and listened to my Beatles and Joni Mitchell records."

His strange, jumpy expression relaxed and he grinned at me. Oh, it warmed my heart.

"Beetles?"

"Beatles."

"How do you listen to beetles?"

"_The Beatles,_" his grin widened as I emphasized. "and I know you know what records are, you did take years of Muggle Studies."

"They're a band, are they? And what's Joni Mitchell? A band as well?"

"She's a singer. This lovely free bird of a Canadian, I could listen to her for a lifetime." I sensed I looked like some innocent little child as I was on the sofa looking up at him, talking about music artists I was passionate about – at least before I went off to Hogwarts – and could still relate to, could still find familiarity in.

"_You're_ lovely. Lovelier than any free bird of a Canadian," he looked almost desperate as he pressed on. "There've been – that goddamned prick Snape is a Death Eater," Something twinged inside of me as James said his name and I imagined the boy I had gone to school with, working for the Dark movement. "Did you know that, Lily? He's a Death Eater of the worst sorts and I'd just like to..."

James trailed off and paused and breathed and his eyes had flashed angry and the words he spoke had been spat out behind bared teeth and a clenched jaw and the hate there was for Snape in school was so much more now, James spoke of him in a murderous tone and it was actually quite frightening.

"It's just that – there've been more Muggle attacks. No one's died lately, none of our's at least, but...Lily, when I,-"

Suddenly I was quite nervous and unsteady and my heart drummed wildly against my chest, pumping loud in my ears.

"James." It was a warning, a cautious utter of his name to tell him to stop before he went too far, before he said something he regretted. I'd been kind in not mentioning what we both knew I should've mentioned. I had been kind in pretending to forget.

He swallowed hard and his Adam's apple twitched and there was an expression of utmost concentration on his face as he shook his head and stopped me from saying anything else.

I felt and saw, in the moment that he paused, everything I'd been through in the last year. Sirius and the first kiss, James and our change from indifference to appreciation and friendship and eventually love. I thought of my parents and my progression from bitter, abandoned, misunderstood teenager to gracious and accepting of where my life was going. I felt better off for having lost them for awhile, I felt as if I had to mature, had to grow up and move on and I did not miss my parents as much as a young woman likely should have. I missed my sister, though, and the kind soul she had been when we were children. I missed that instant connection, that bond and I missed my grandparents and those places, those people seemed so apart from me, so a piece of a different life, a different person.

It was jarring, nearly worrisome, to consider the stark changes that had happened in my life. I felt but a ghost of myself. In that moment, though, with James turning to look at me, hair a shaggy, thick ruffled mess and his eyes blazing and burning hazel – I could not consider the changes or differences in myself as bad things. I felt liberated, absolutely free and reborn to think I'd come so far, I'd changed so much and tried to embrace so much. To think of what James was about to ask me, to think of the response I was about to provide, it was difficult to want to let that freedom go, to simply give it up the second after I'd finally realized it, discovered it.

He dropped to his knee with furrowed brow as I breathed deep and closed my eyes and imagined a future.

**Abc.**

**"It Was Love", by the Elected.**

**abc.**

"Sirius. Sirius."

We'd made an agreement. We had spent the entire day and night together and laid and talked and made love and worried and laughed – and we made an agreement.

"You tell Sirius, Remus and Pete – I'll tell my Mum. Sound good?"

No, it didn't. Really, I could handle little Peter Pettigrew, I assumed he would be happy for us. But Sirius and Remus – I really was uncertain, uneasy, uncomfortable with. But with whom would I be more uncomfortable, the two of them or the Mrs. Potter?

Well, that was a question to which the answer was obvious.

But I didn't know why it had to be ruined so quickly, I didn't understand his need to plunge back into reality without hardly enjoying the happiness we'd found. I guess he was practical and reasonable whereas I was just desperate for an escape, glad to have him back.

There was always someone other than ourselves to consider, though. It would, really, always be that way. It was with that thought, that "someone else to consider", that would put us in the most danger, that would drive us to our end.

We were lying together when the agreement was made in the pitch dark of my bedroom and it was the kind of close, suffocating darkness that makes you panic, makes your eyes wide, searching out any light. With him, though, it was easy and relaxing. He was calming to me.

It was with my lips pressed against his mouth that I agreed to tell his fellow Marauders.

There I was then, the next night, creeping into Bridget's bedroom while James slept in my own, seeking out Sirius. I felt the sooner it was over with, the better. Sirius seemed an easy start because I'd already said James had proposed the first time and maybe – maybe he'd be happy, excited, supportive.

I was not sure why it had to be done then and now but it did.

"Sirius," my whisper grew louder and more persistent through the dark and I lit my wand, shining it not directly over the bed but just enough so I could make out his body and limbs tangled in with Bridget. "Wake up," I nudged him with my foot and then prodded him with my wand and finally he gave a snort and flopped over onto his side and blinked up at me.

"Blimey Lily, up for a little ménage à trois action, then? Didn't take you for the type."

"Good to know the two of you have a well-established, stable relationship and all." I rolled my eyes.

"Well-established and stable in certain ways, it is." He sounded smug even through the semi-dark.

And he was nude. Not just, you know, from the waist up, strategically covered and all of that – but just nude, leg dangling off the side of the bed, hair a mess but really who could blame a girl for looking.

"I need to talk to you."

He made no offer to sit up or cover or move in anyway, just grunted a non-committal response.

"It's James. He's – well, okay – he's proposed. Like really this time. Down on one knee and a ring and all of that. I just thought, he thought – you should know. First."

The silence that followed was long and heavy and let's admit, awkward. His naked form was distorted to me, shadows playing over his body and the bright light of my wand only falling on to his face and Bridget's bare back beside him. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and chewed my lip and looked around the room.

Finally, he spoke.

"Alright then, love. Let's see the rock."

He propped himself up on his elbow, adjusted his legs to offer a bit of modesty to the situation and grasped my hand with his warm one. I shone my wand down onto it and the sparkly little gold thing glinted prettily. When he looked up it was with a genuine smile and I felt better, I felt assured about it all.

That was assuming Mrs. Potter – or Remus for that matter – didn't blast me to hell when they found out.

"Funny to think we're only eighteen." Sirius muttered.

I saw that night perhaps for the time ever just why he and James were best friends, pseudo-brothers. They made sense together. They offered a bit of themselves to the other. Sirius was brash and offensive but I could not say he was a bad friend. He was a good man. He was relief in times of trouble.

That night I went back to James and I pressed myself close to him and I breathed in everything about him and I looked into his eyes and somehow this was the beginning, this was the beginning of us, the beginning of a future, a happiness. Not so far behind that beginning though was a looming end and it's funny how love can make you blind to all of that.

The sky lit up that night and people died and war waged on but we were just young and quiet and happy. For that night, at least.

**Abc**.

**"The Ends Not Near, it's Here", by Band of Horses.**

**Abc.**

Hello, I'm sorry for the delay in this chapter. It took a long time. And it's not that long or good enough to make up for the delay but I just wanted to get something up before summer ended and school started again. I stand by this chapter, though. It may not be as entire or detailed as I would've liked to have made it but I think I got the point out. They're happy. They're engaged. Young. In love. But they're doomed. As much as I – and Lily and James – try to move beyond the war and Voldemort and all of that, I just can not. I can't write a chapter now without obviously knowing that they're going to die and whatever happiness they're experiencing is just so...doomed. And my inability to move beyond that shows through Lily. But, I hope you read and enjoy and review if you'd like. There are times I'd like to quit this story, I'm kind of into writing the O.C. Fanfic now but I want to finish this one and do it justice. So, there you are.


	35. Hiding my Heart

**Chapter 35  
**"Hiding my Heart"

**Abc.**

**"Acid Tongue", by Jenny Lewis.**

**Abc.**

Happiness was not somewhere he and I dwelled for too long. Or, rather, not somewhere I dwelled for long and now that we were in this thing forever, he sort of followed wherever I went – Even if it was into some strange mood that didn't lift for weeks on end. I did not feel particularly guilty or bad about bringing him down with me, just simply appreciated his company. I figured this was how a relationship worked. Give and take and well right then I was taking more than I could possibly make up for later.

It wasn't that I was unhappy; I was more restless, uncomfortably at a loss with myself. I had lost myself. That was it. I had, somewhere between graduation and our engagement, lost myself. I hadn't even a chance to find myself after graduation before I had lost myself. Because then it wasn't just myself, it was us and it became hard to distinguish where I ended and he began. I figured I should appreciate how close we were, how he seemed to read my mind some days but mostly I was disappointed that I had failed so miserably at establishing my own life, failed so miserably had detaching a bit and stepping back and finding out who I was.

So, I had lost myself.

There wasn't really anything to be upset over, it wasn't as if I woke in the morning and forgot who I was. It was more I woke in the morning and felt so remarkably unchanged, so remarkably indifferent to life. I was ashamed that my mindset was so bleak, that I couldn't get away from it, couldn't turn things around. But I hadn't wanted to turn things around once I got into my comfortable little corner of the universe. No use bothering things when I had a nice cozy little unimportant existence going on.

I had been optimistic for awhile.

It faded like things fade. I had lost myself the way we lose ourselves at different points in our lives. You get to a certain age and suddenly there's no Santa Claus – Christmas comes calling and you could hardly care less. It just gets stressful when the magic is gone. Or you turn twelve or thirteen and then your birthdays grow lesser and lesser in importance. You try to muster up some excitement as the years pass but eventually you realize what's happening – years passing. What is there to be excited about? So, you lose that magic, that excitement, too. Snow falls for the first time that winter but you turn a blind eye. The sun comes out for the first time in weeks and it's suddenly summertime and what's it to you? It'll be over before you realize it had come and then the leaves will change and you don't care about that, either. Things grow insignificant, you meet a crossroads. You're leaving childhood, you're an adult and childish things no longer appeal to you. But you wish they did, you wish so much you could regain some spark, some life, some feeling at these milestones, at these times. You spend your year's trying and I was at that point. I was at that trying-to-feel-happy point. I didn't know what was beyond that point. I didn't know if a different kind of happiness sunk in when those magical, nearly trivial happiness' of your past fade. I didn't know if it would come full circle – if those feelings, yes, would fade but you'd capture different ones. You'd see joy in different places or perhaps in the very same places, just with a different eye. I hoped so very much to wake up some morning, realize my heart was still beating and just be happy with that. It was tiresome to be endlessly expecting some renewed flutter, some flurry of excitement, of adventure within yourself that never came.

James became the exception. When before, even though I loved him, we kept a modest distance, a bit of a cap on our emotions – now, I just saw him and lit up. Sometimes there were a couple of days or even a week when I wouldn't see him – he was more involved in the Order than I could find the energy to be. He came calling after those long days, those secretive journeys and I could not think of how I ever survived without him. Where I had lost myself, I was finding him. Never did he seem more beautiful, so absolutely appealing to me. Where I felt no emotion, no fire toward some things, I felt more toward him. Sometimes I simply looked at him and lost myself to inexplicable tears, inexplicable emotion. He had no idea what to think, he seemed bemused most of the time but sometimes his face, those hazel eyes would crease up in worry and he never asked what was wrong, just burned me with his stare.

Things I worried about before were so insanely pointless that I felt sick and angry with myself. Remus, was not my concern. Sirius, was not my concern. His damned mum and her damned opinions of me – I shouldn't've ever cared as much as I had. I'd wasted time; I hadn't been seeing him as clearly as I was now. It was startling to see him as honourable, as worthy and good as I did now. It was my greatest comfort, to see his familiar face. I had started living more for him than for me and it scared me, it confused me but I didn't know how to better it. I didn't know how to simply find myself. I'd had passion before, I thought, and it was gone, buried deep within doubt and fear of change and even my hair was a bit tamer, a bit less fiery. I often wondered if because that passion, that drive was gone from me if he, too, would be gone. I did not want him to fall out of love with me, for me to bore him so much that he went off to bigger and better things.

Because, compared with my normally listless state, there had to be bigger and better things.

He pretended not to notice for which I loved him. When he suggested dinner and I turned him down, he simply ate himself and brought me some wine. When he would kiss me with less than honourable intentions in mind and he saw no response, no desire in my eyes he would kiss me few more times, more demurely and then he would turn and go to sleep, winding his arm around me at some point in the night. After a long Order meeting, some of them would like to go to a pub and order a round and I never felt like leaving my warm little flat, so he'd go himself or else turn his buddies down with a grin and an arm about my waist. His patience with me was nearly aggravating but mostly overwhelming to know he loved me and simply trusted me and my judgment now.

I couldn't understand how we grew closer, how our love grew stronger as I grew, in some ways, weaker. I assumed it was him supporting me somehow but I just honestly loved him and I couldn't care if I spoke to another living soul for the rest of my life. Suddenly – so suddenly that it nearly panicked me – he was the most important thing to me, more important than me. Nothing penetrated that, nothing or no one bothered me anymore. I floated on kind of complacently, at least in my own mind, and unaware of anything else. It was a sort of reckless way to live, I pondered but I was unperturbed and just…read a lot of books.

**Abc.**

"I come bearing food." He announced himself as he Apparated into the flat and I could hear the grin on his face. He was often hopeful when he came home; I suspected he was always waiting for my mood to change.

"Oh, I just had some," I waved my hand in the direction of the mess of chocolate bar wrappers and a wine glass on the coffee table. "dinner."

"Lily, Lily, I'm not buying that. You need some real food. Besides, it's our month anniversary."

I arched an eyebrow.

"Of our engagement, I mean. You didn't want to celebrate your birthday last week and fine, I was accepting of that then. But we're celebrating tonight whether you like it or not." His tone wasn't as authoritative as I knew he meant for it to be. He was more worried than anything.

"James, really – I'm a little drunk and when this wears off I'll just be plain tired, so another time, okay?"

He set the paper bag of food down onto the coffee table and made my mess disappear with a flick of his wand.

"It's not our month anniversary another time, that's the point of celebrating the day of. I figured this could compensate for your birthday a little. Sirius and Bridget can come if you'd like, or they can stay away. It's in my hands; just let me know how you're feeling."

I sighed and looked up from the magazine I was leafing through.

"I feel like I want to be left alone, so eat your dinner, I'll read, we'll both be in peace."

He listened; tearing into the bag of what turned out to be Chinese food and gulped some down in the kind of quiet we hadn't shared in awhile. It was a tense quiet. His patience of an angel were finally wearing thin, I realized. I didn't care, though; maybe a fight would wake me up a little – Both literally from my drunk and figuratively from, well, my head.

"This is what you do now, then? Is this what you're going to do for the rest of our lives? Sit around while I'm gone and get drunk alone, read some stupid witches gossip rag, want to be left alone? Is this actually who you are now?"

I didn't responded, just merely continued reading, looking bored. I was bored – Bored with everything. He was starting to feel responsible or something, perhaps. It wasn't his fault, though; he was the one thing keeping me going. I didn't feel like flattering him or bothering to share that. I just wanted peace. I figured some external peace and quiet may eventually at some point perhaps offer me some internal peace and quiet.

It was a long shot, since it'd been weeks of peace and quiet and I still found my thoughts strange, erratic, dark, disinterested. I'd even driven Sirius off. He was perpetually interested in bothering me, pestering me while the two of us were both at the flat alone – Both Bridget and James working, something neither of us did, aside from the Order. After I fell ill in October I'd never returned to St. Mungo's. It was foolish because it was really after that when I'd gotten so entirely lifeless. But it had become mechanic to me and I didn't really care as much as a hospital worker should've. Gaping wounds and strange rashes, spilling blood – none of it affected me as it had. I felt so detached from the entire world, all but him. My heart still beat for him, even if I went from incredibly affectionate to bored by him. He was just the only one who would put up with it.

But yes, Sirius, even he stayed away from me. I must've seemed really disturbed, really altered for him to avoid me. Avoid. That's what people were doing. Or, I was paranoid. No one probably noticed my lifelessness as much as I seemed to. I still smiled sometimes and especially when I drank too much, I wasn't unfriendly when people tried to be friendly. I just didn't feel any connection when I would speak, when I would offer smiles and laughs. Sometimes I'd crawl out of my cocoon and James and I would spend the night together and for the first time in weeks I would truly have had felt alive, with my legs wound around him and his eyes bright as he brushed his hands all over my face and through my hair. I felt connected to no one but him in those long moments.

He finished his food, bade me goodnight and went to bed. It occurred to me then that I did not know when he had officially moved in. It could not have been good to be so utterly unaware of things like that. I hadn't even wanted him to move in. I loved my flat, yes, but Bridget and Sirius had as much of a stamp on it now as we did. And damn it, James was bloody wealthy, why were we in a flat to begin with? He could buy us a house, I decided, and it would be lovely. But that wasn't what I really wanted, either. Of course, as usual, I hadn't an idea what I really wanted.

And then it hit me, very hard and emotion came flooding back through my wine-induced drunk – I was exhausted with myself. I could not bear to consider who I'd become and yet I expected James to tirelessly put up with it? I expected him to look forward to coming home to me when my moods toward him ranged from madly in love to utter and complete disinterest? When one second he was my life line and the next I wanted to be left alone? I was not making sense; I could not bring him down any longer.

**Abc.**

I crawled into bed beside him and he lay awake, his clothing and glasses still on. He hadn't come to bed due to need of sleep, rather because of weariness over me. I was so ashamed with my behaviour.

"I'm sorry." I finally said and my voice cracked and he turned to me. He really was a perfect picture. His cheeks were rosy with caged anger and his chest rose and fell steadily. His hazel eyes burned into my own and his long lashes fluttered as he sighed. His hair stood up at odd directions and it was not irritating, just so entirely endearing. He had lines about his eyes now and they gave him character, were the beginning of a story. I could imagine loving him in forty, fifty, sixty years just as I did now. I could love him in age just as I did in youth.

"I love you." I promised.

"My mum's happy for us, you know, Lily. You never even asked if I'd told her. She invited us over for a meal but…but I told her I'd let her know. Once you got out of this unsettling place you're in. You're so bloody detached. It's unnerving to look at you, sometimes. Your eyes," his thumb brushed my cheek and I felt my breath catch and my heart hum. "they're so off, sometimes. Not even your colour, just…green, not bright green. You've lost yourself a bit, hmm?" He coaxed and I wanted to talk, to finally explain all he'd been putting up with but it didn't come to me.

"I'm old now, I feel. I'm nineteen. It feels so old. Twenty, twenty – that'll be the end of me. Imagine what you'll have to put up with next year." I murmured, embarrassed.

"This is all about you turning nineteen?" His brow furrowed and concentration suited him. I loved to see his face line with thought. "That was just a few days ago, though."

I laid a hand against his chest and felt his heart drum just for my own amusement.

"No, it's not about that at all. I can't explain what it's about, though, James," My eyes stung with tears and my emotions were unreadable these days. "It's just as you said – I've lost myself somewhere in all that's been going on. I'm so scared for us some days, so unconcerned others. There's a war happening and I just sit here reading magazines and getting drunk by myself. I'm so…I'm so…"

He kissed me very softly and I sighed into it, pressing myself close against the length of his body and it was November and cold and he was so very warm that I felt burned at the contact of his skin. I loved it, I would not trade the feeling of him for anything in the entire world.

"We'll get you back," he spoke against my lips, teeth against the bottom one for a moment. "Rebirth you in a way. You needn't worry – I won't let you just slip away, you know." His hand slid down my cheek and neck, curved over my breast and finally pressed hard into my side, gripping my hip and pulling me as close as possible, my head against his chest, leg going between his and the other one over.

I could hardly breathe for how I felt. He had become a man recently, with all of the fighting and leaving and warring but…to know he was man in this relationship now, too, to know that we were for real, that this was happening and he was there and real and constant and stable –

It made me feel a bit more like all of those things, too.

My lethargy, even after we'd had sex and he'd fell into sleep for a few minutes, finally passed. I lay there, absolutely taken – once again – with just his face, just his skin and his scruff and his breathing and I felt better, then, as if I could get out of bed when the sun came up and realize myself again. I hoped, oh I hoped, so greatly for it. He amazed me and I knew all through school he and Sirius had spent time amazing other girls but he was amazing me now, as the man he'd grown to be and my heart was entirely his. I told him so when he stirred a half hour later.

"We'll get a house, too. Get out of here. And let's get married, Lily. Soon. Before Christmas, before anything changes." I knew he meant by way of the world, the war, the danger. His voice was a husky whisper and his nose was pressed into my cheek as he spoke against my skin. We couldn't be close enough now.

I felt better than I had in a long time. I felt anything, something which I hadn't in a long time. It was funny to think it was so much to do with him. Funny and, well, life-altering.

**Abc.**

**"Lost", by Coldplay.**

**Abc.**

Hi! I realize this chapter seems to have come out of left field. Truthfully, I just wrote it right now. Usually I like to let them sit a little while and read over them but I feel pretty powerfully about this one. I was recently inspired and was fearful I would lose it – so, I wrote. The way Lily was feeling is so close to how I know I can feel – perhaps not as exaggerated – and I thought it was important for her to have that, for her feelings to be so raw and jumbled that she lost herself for a short time. I could've dragged it on and I felt like it but I get tired of negative Lily. She's evolving, our Lily, and James might be a bit…off character, maybe? In this chapter, compared to how I usually write him. But, this has been going on for a long time and I finally see where this should be going, where I hope I can take it, so I'm just writing what comes to me. I admit there's not a lot in this chapter aside from Lily's thoughts and their growing love but I feel it's a necessary chapter. A bit more than a "transition" chapter, it's an incredibly profound one for Lily. I realize it's lacking by way of magic and other characters, haha, but they need to have their moments.

So, I hope you like it or at least appreciate the unexpected update. Life gets busy and I'm not too fond of what it's busy with – school – so I wanted to write. It's funny to think second year university has come on so quickly. But, ok, goodnight and enjoy! As you know, feedback is appreciated but not what prompts me to write more. I won't demand reviews in exchange for another chapter, an ending. If one person still reads, I will still finish. Take care.

P.S. Jenny Lewis' new album is fantastic and Acid Tongue is a great song but they're all great. I suggest you check it our. Carpet baggers, Jack Killed Mom, Black Sand, Fernando – all winners that I can't stop listening to. As is the rest of the album. I feel passionately about Jenny Lewis' music, both solo and with Rilo Kiley, so I thought I'd take the chance to plug it. I know how happy it makes me feel. Coldplay's new stuff is great, too! Ok, I take my leave.


	36. At Full Speed

**Chapter 36**

"**At Full Speed"**

**abc.**

"**At Full Speed", by Jack's Mannequin.**

**Abc.**

"How are we in love?"

December met us uneventfully, not a drastic change in the weather nor mood. It hadn't snowed any amount yet and the temperature dropped but not so much that I refused to leave the flat. And though I was happier in general, more comfortable I did not quite reach elation or some kind of euphoric point of no return. I was still doing the same things, I was still waking up in the morning in the same bed, in the same flat, in the same city, in the same country, continent, world...

I was still paying rent with money my dad had given me, still feeding myself almost frivolously with the finite supply one cheque a few months ago had offered me. I was still buying flowers and baking and I was on my own but in ways had never been more trapped.

Who did I think I was? I hadn't seen my parents in ages and yet I took my father's money and was sustaining myself with it. It was what he had intended, I was certain, for me to use the money however I needed – because he owed me. He thought that cheque was going to make up for years and years of distance and separation. He thought it was as good as an apology, maybe, as good as reconnecting. Money and who was I to argue? It was what I needed, not a failed attempt at resurrecting my relationship with long-lost parents and step-parents and siblings and step-siblings...

Had my father even married Rebecca? I couldn't remember whether they were engaged or married and I was ashamed. My mother was an entirely different story because not only was I unaware of her love life but I was also unaware of her location. Back in London? Or in America with family again? Or somewhere else entirely? I thought of my mother and was also ashamed but I was not so much about either of my parents that I felt empty or lonely or desperate for their love and attention again. Because their love and attention were things I had never claimed for long, as it was.

None of us, including my darling lovely sister, were innocent in the deterioration of our family and that was the only comfort I could offer myself.

Lately I had been bursting to get out.

**Abc**.

"How are we in love?"

December was a month I was trying to appreciate. It was a magical month with snow and holidays and love and food. It was supposed to be, at least. Cold outside but warmed your heart, right? Was it not the most wonderful time of year, anticipation starting as soon as the 30th of November had passed? I could not really remember what there was to be excited over, which had less to do with my unenthusiasm over most everything and more to do with the way things fade with age.

Things fade with age. Memories and excitement and who you once were. Fade with age? I was nineteen, how was that even a reasonable thing to think? I was young, I reminded myself and as my birthday passed and James's approached – it was something I found myself thinking often. Planning the day, the week, the month, the years ahead and I would stop and ration that I was young, we were young – there was so much time for all of that, no need to rush and worry.

Somehow I knew it was a lie, the whole plenty of time, love and peace and happiness bit. I knew it was a lie and therefore I tried to appreciate December.

Sirius and James hung lights at the flat near the middle of December and it was then I realized that yes, time was really passing and another Christmas would soon be upon us. Christmas, again, really? It came every year, I realized, but it seemed strange sometimes when it happened, anyway. Not an unexpected sort of holiday but still one that caught me off guard. As children, our parents were responsible for reminding us and exciting us and maintaining that excitement, for years and years and now that I was on my own I was responsible for capturing the magic of the holiday.

I didn't think I was doing the best job of it though I really did try. There was too much beneath the surface of my happy-go-lucky, let's-decorate-the-tree exterior. There was too much beneath all of our facades, too many unsaid words and wonders and worries. The war, the danger, the fear had reached a certain unspeakable point that month, with the Minister for Magic having to really come to terms with it and go to the muggle Prime Minister when a record number of muggles were offed.

It was the most urgent thing in everyone's lives, in the entire Wizarding World yet it was a subject that we'd stopped talking about at home. We went to Order meetings, we did what we could and then we came home and hung lights and strung popcorn and drank kahluha and oh, what would you like to find this year under the tree? Trivial, awful things like that.

Christmas was not trivial yet even the cheerful holiday could not suppress the unknown the war presented. The war. It was a war.

**Abc**.

"How are we in love?"

He was propped up against the pillows, just getting a chance to read the day's paper now and I was curled next to him, atop the covers and in my nightgown. He glanced at me, read for a moment longer and then tossed it onto the nightstand, waving his wand to magic the high light off and then threw that onto the stand, too.

"I'm not sure what you mean. How are we in love – Quite simply, I would say but that's not the answer you're looking for, is it? To me, I'll say, it's quite simply we're in love."

I considered him for a moment and wondered when he had started speaking so easily, so assuredly. I always stumbled and faltered and fell over my words but he spoke with me comfortably.

He turned onto his side and faced me, mimicking the way I laid there, in a kind of ball, huddled against the cold and well-aware my silky nightgown wasn't providing much warmth. James was not usually concerned or particularly interested in my bedtime attire, just that certain nights they came off. I wore the nightgown – which was rather matronly in length and coverage, just the cleavage and material suggesting anything special – for lack of anything else. Even as a witch, I wasn't fond of laundry and sometimes still used the washer, having not mastered certain cleansing charms to the point that they actually worked.

"I suppose what I mean...is...how are we in love?" I shook my head at myself, murmuring softly after I spoke, realizing that emphasis on the word did not help to explain the meaning. "Let me think..."

He seemed amused and an impish smile tugged at the corner of his lips and really the dim light of the bedroom – provided only through the uncurtained window and the glow the Christmas lights outside offered – was endlessly flattering, glinting off his glasses and suggesting mystery in his eyes, his features accentuated and breathing clearly slow and steady.

"How are we in love...against all odds, is what I'm trying to ask, I think." Had there even been a point for my question? It was late and I couldn't remember what I was getting at.

"Well, not against all odds. Certainly we've had a few but they're not terribly impressive considering, well, we both made it through alive, yeah? Bridget's Ray died...I lost Jocelyn...We're alive, you and I. Odds have been in our favour, I think."

What was this strange, poorly-timed optimism?

He understood my silence and lip chewing as my being at a loss.

"It's easy for me to think of you as the bright spot of my life now, Lily. It's easy for me to talk about you like you're the lightest, loveliest creature I've come across because you are and I love you. I don't mean to be startling but it's as if I sort of revolve around you and it's just so easy."

More silence and he chuckled to himself and we maintained our curled up, facing each other positions.

"You're delusional a bit, I think. Light and lovely, really?" The surprise in my voice was not light and lovely at all, it was choked because I honestly wondered if he was really seeing me for who I was, after all this time. "James," I sounded chiding and near tears. "Don't...don't fool yourself."

Where earlier in our relationship my, let's call it modesty, may have prompted anger and disbelief from him, toward my bad self-image or something – tonight he was just soft and quiet and willing to listen.

"Sometimes you're not, I'll admit. You dig yourself into dark, sad places and you take a long time coming out of them. You're so proud and independent, too, it was hard for me, initially – I wondered if you would ever come around, if you'd ever start acting like you loved me. But, Lily, you're much more than you even realize. Just, don't argue with me because I don't think we need to spend hours fattening your head up just this minute – but trust me, I'd not be here if I didn't think any of that."

"Hmm," I tapped my fingers against his chest and could not bring myself to look at his eyes because they seemed to be burning me with intensity alone. "Most...couples don't talk like this."

That quiet rumbling laughter again and I felt my cheeks burn slightly. My train of thought was entirely off, being this close to him, hearing him talk like that, realizing he was a better man than I'd even started to realize.

"I could talk to you about anything for a very long time, Lily Evans."

He closed his eyes and I could see he was actually considering sleep, done with the conversation as my thoughts ran around in my mind and tried to get straightened out. Hadn't I had a concern to address? I honestly couldn't remember and felt like sleep, myself.

"Independent, though, really? I mean...It's embarrassing, what I'm doing. You know what I'm doing? Sort of took my father's money and am sustaining myself with it. That's not independence, James. That's indecision."

It seemed that with effort he opened his eyes again, tugged his glasses off and stared at me all unabashed and I felt my breathing speed up.

"I don't care...about money or anything. I mean, you're young. We're young. I was just all set up with no thought involved, you know? I'm doing the very same thing. But I'm sustaining myself with money that I was born into. You just consider yourself less because...because you've reached a crossroads and are more uncertain than I am about the Order. You can be independent and indecisive at the same time, I think. You might not quite be dependent in the ways you want to be but...You don't need me, I guess, is where I consider you independent."

Suddenly fierce and determined, I kissed him swiftly and then put my hands on either side of his face, staring just staring into his eyes.

"James, you've no idea how I need you."

It seemed he kissed me again and the night progressed as such and whatever point, worry, doubt I had faded and dulled as passion flared and I forgot about whatever it had been. So funny, I thought, that he was so absolutely powerful over me without trying. We went to sleep that night and the next thing I knew, I swear, really, the next thing I consciously became aware of – It was January, Christmas had come and gone and gifts and trees and lights and booze and food and weight gained and laugh lines pronounced and then we were married.

**Abc**.

February was going to be a short month, I thought. Twenty-eight days, how easy that seemed. The quicker the days, weeks, months pass – the sooner a year will have passed and the longer we will have fought on. Yes, short months and time flying at full speed was what we needed right then.

Actions and thoughts and battles were blurred throughout the rest of December, January and into February. There was a mounting panic and how could there not be? How could there not be panic when we were watching so many that we knew, and many more that we did not, be blown up in their homes, being murdered with the wave of a wand?

It wasn't that the death toll was that high. It wasn't that we were ambushed from all sides and the walls were closing in and there was no hope at all. We hadn't gotten there yet, we were still working and normally succeeding more than failing. But each death, each attack, no matter how few, dealt a hard blow and it got harder to keep going. It got harder to vanish off to random places, looking for Death Eaters, trying to protect people and homes – and not know if we would come back. The panic was not yet full force but I felt like it should be. I felt like screaming until my lungs burst because there was not panic, there was not enough movement, not enough to do yet too much to do. It was frustrating, to feel as if we were standing still yet moving rapidly, the world spinning by.

I just wanted the year to be over. 1979 was damned already to me, yet it was by far not the worst that was to come.

Before I hadn't cared – well, no, I had cared quite a lot, given how many people I loved were tied to the Order but I hadn't – I hadn't been as involved as I was after we married. I had felt perhaps useless and scared and uncertain but once we married I realized he was never going to leave again without me and I had to make sure that there would be no permanent, death sort of separation. I was in the Order to protect others, to help in this fight but I was also in the Order because of James and so much because of James that it was scary yet made perfect sense. We were a whole now and had there been a time when we weren't?

"Lily," We didn't always, actually not very often, sit together at Order meetings, though of course they all knew we were married and some had been at the wedding though only a dozen or so. There were some boundaries, still, it seemed. I felt affectionate toward him, loving, yet kept my distance and was somewhat of a professional when it came to our relationship in public. For some reason that made sense at the time. I suppose I thought people may take us more seriously if we were still individual's on the outside, though entirely bound at the soul.

"Lily," He was across the large wooden table we sat at, between Sirius and Frank Longbottom, and he had been paying rapt attention to Dumbledore as he spoke but something about me had caught his attention and he was actually getting quite loud.

"Lily," Rather than shout, he hissed my name and leaned across the table a bit, flailing his foot at me under it – missing due to the monstrous size of the thing – kicked it from underneath, caused it and those around it to jump.

"Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore inquired, though not as interestedly as the other members, and James apologized and leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. He looked sort of angry and amused all in one.

I went back to listening, though not looking, to Dumbledore and found my gaze focused on the same person as before.

**Abc**.

Tea and crumpets followed as the meeting broke up and I sat near Alice, talking and drinking and eating and bemoaning the cold weather, wondering aloud whether Spring still existed or not. There were many things I wondered if still existed – Like peace and calm and happiness.

"Lily," Alice said eventually and she giggled a bit as she drunk from her cup and that was the thing about Alice. She was absolutely serious, a thousand times more dedicated to the Order, more understanding of the hardships facing us but she was still so refreshingly young. When I felt old beyond my years, felt as if my own husband more closely resembled his late father than he did a younger version of himself – I looked to Alice and she was often smiling and her eyes were wide and innocent and when Frank looked at her it was with obvious adoration, with all of the love in the world right there on his face. It was reassuring. "James is glaring at you."

"Is he?" I asked, eyebrows raised, not particularly surprised because he was grumpy now and then and found a reason to take it out on me but I didn't find bad moods as often as I once had. "Wonder why..."

I didn't have to wonder for long, for he approached, beer in hand and politely asked Alice if he could have a moment with me. He was still a gentleman, even in times of war and anger and frustration. I smirked because he was vulgar and loud when we were home, all pretences of ease gone.

When Alice left with a smile and nod, going to Frank, James took me by the crook of my elbow and pulled me away from most of the group. He pulled me toward the fireplace where he set his drink on the mantle and then cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Do you ever notice, especially lately, how...absent-minded you are? Not to offend but...and not when it comes to your intelligence but you just don't seem to notice...what you do sometimes."

I pursed my lips and frowned, folding my arms.

"You realize you sat through most of the two hour meeting glaring at poor Moony, aye?"

It was still funny to me that I actually knew the reasoning behind their nicknames.

"Lily, you didn't even realize, did you?"

I was smiling as I watched the flames leap about, warming my hands and face, causing a warm flush to colour my cheeks.

"Hmm? Sorry, no...Glaring at Remus? Oh...Was it him I was looking at? That's funny, I wasn't even seeing him, I was just thinking..."

He left me in silence for a moment before pressing.

"Of what?"

"Oh...oh. Oh okay, you can't judge me, though. I don't expect you to but it was actually kind of an, um, dark thought that I was preoccupied with for...the entire meeting..."

"Lily," impatience saturated his voice and stance, arms folded, foot tapping.

"I was wondering what it'd be like to kill someone. Not I'm-so-angry-I-could-strangle-someone sort of kill but actually just...just kill someone, murder. Point blank, no second thoughts. Do what you have to do, you know. S'pose it would be Remus's head I'd envision on the platter..." I was amused at the thought and considering it wouldn't really help our friendship that I was sending him death glares but then I saw James's expression and it was of concern.

We left shortly after with a goodbye to Dumbledore and the Longbottom's and a "see you later" to Sirius.

**Abc**.

"**'Til Kingdom Come", by Coldplay.**

**Abc.**

We married at a small church, short notice to everyone including one another. It was just a natural sort of agreement one morning – "About time, don't you think?" and I said yes and two days later it had happened.

He wore traditional robes in lieu of a suit, thought his Dad would have had appreciated that. Sirius was the Best Man, Bridget the only one to stand up with me and Remus walked me down the aisle which had me giggling before he had offered me to James. Peter and the Longbottoms were there, as well as Marlene McKinnon and her current boyfriend, as well as a few other Order members. James's mum and little Lexi, his Aunt Mary and Uncle Mac, old neighbour Melly and that was it for his family. I had invited my sister; she not-so-politely declined, reminding me of our visit at Christmastime the year before when she had made her feelings for James clear. Something about never wanting to see him again and so on.

It was short and we did not stand before them and utter overly personal vows, just sort of gazed into one another's eyes and said the proper "I do"'s and "death do us parts". I wondered if I would cry, if I should cry. I had never before been to a wedding, so I was unfamiliar with the proper reaction from the bride. I just felt overwhelmingly happy, beaming up at him until my cheeks were sore and my lips quivering but I could not stop the smile, could not think of anything but here he is and here I am and for the rest of our lives.

The smile finally wavered as he kissed me with an identical grin to mine and then it crashed down on me. Was I really wearing a white dress, gold wedding band, standing before a minister? Declaring myself to James Potter of all people and wife, really? Husband and wife and was this really happening? I cried until the ceremony ended and we walked down the aisle with arms locked and rice in our hair and he whispered to me it would be all right.

Sitting at home – temporary home because we were still on the hunt for the perfect one – with him beside the fire, stoking it almost absently, sipping his nightcap of whiskey or rum, I was never certain his preference...sitting there with him like that, quiet in February, it was strange to think any of that had happened at all. Sometimes I would forget, forget anything was different and then would see the rings on my finger and remember suddenly and startlingly and the emotions of that day, that night were so the highlight of my life.

The reception carried on and on and on into the night and it was actually dawn before people left and reminded us of our trip; we never did properly honeymoon. We holed up in a fancy hotel in some far-off European city, to which we Apparated to and never properly saw, and were back in two days. We married on his birthday, the 22nd, and then it was Christmas, so we were home to celebrate with friends and family and somehow life felt complete, for those few short days.

Turmoil ensued shortly after, of course, making it seem all the more surreal.

His mother gave me her veil, kissed my cheek and gave her blessing and even that was right in the world. I could not imagine, could not grasp the change my life – our lives – had taken.

"What are you thinking of now?" The present James, swirling the drink in his hand, interrupted my thoughts of that impossible-to-imagine time. "You don't look quite as murderous, I'll give you that."

"Mmm," Contentment as I sighed and looked over at him awash in the light of the flames. "The wedding. Our wedding."

"How strange your thought process in one day, yeah?" He sat on the coffee table, across from me on the couch, put his hand on my knee and squeezed gently.

He was being careful and his eyes were weary.

"What's the matter," I whispered.

"Aside from...war and constant uproar...The matter is you, I suppose. Not the matter but the worry is...is you."

We were quiet for a long while and I wondered why neither Bridget or Sirius had appeared here yet, had came in, loud about the evening and plans and drunk and hope. I supposed James had requested some kind of privacy.

"Really, darling," Sometimes my eyes watered from the emotion of speaking to him, of looking at him itself. "You shouldn't worry about me killing someone, it was just a thought. What if, you know. What if our lives are in danger and there is no option, nothing to do but just...just wave of the wand and take the life of an evil, evil person? Could I do it, I don't know – I was just wondering what it would be like. If I could, how I'd feel, if there'd be any guilt or any...pleasure." I sighed as this didn't ease any of the concern on his face.

He swallowed, finished his drink and returned to massaging my knee. Liquor made his eyes smolder the loveliest colour.

"It makes me angry, is all. So angry, I just..." Clenched jaw, jumping Adam's apple. "hate that you and I have reached some harmony but the world is at such an ugly odds. It makes me angry that you, that my wife has to sit and wonder about murder of all things. It's not how our lives should be, Lily. You shouldn't have to ever think about having blood on your hands. I want to protect you from all of this but you're integral in it all, too. It's not where we're supposed to be, it's not how our newlywed year should be happening. Not stuck in a flat with another semi-couple, not being married and having never actually been on our own together, not in the middle of a damned war..."

James's voice broke and so did my heart and I never imagined my simply wondering of murder – well, perhaps that was not a simple thing to wonder – would put so much guilt onto him, so much of a burden it would be.

"I don't want to make this harder for you, James. I'll try to keep my homicidal thoughts to myself from now on. Lessen the death glares to one of your best mates and all..." I tried a smile.

Hard eyes and strong voice now. "Bugger that, love. If you ever get into the situation, ever can save a life or a hundred lives of the good side by taking one of the bad guys out – do it. Wave your wand and say that curse and prepare yourself for any consequences but do what you have to do. If you need to murder, then murder. I expect you'd tell me the same. It's just the fact we're in this at all, we have to talk about such a sin at all that is...ravaging my insides."

I felt a little quieter, a little calmer, a little older on my insides that night. I felt a little more responsible, a little more dark, a little more aware.

We watched M*A*S*H that night – I turned the television on when James left to shower and it seemed there was nothing more to say – and I remembered being 12 or 13 the first time I saw it. I remembered sitting in front of the television, uncertain of just why I was watching this show I felt was better suited for old men.

I remembered an instant, strange attraction to Hawkeye even at a young age and I smiled a bit as I watched the doctor on screen six years after I'd first discovered it. Alan Alda hadn't changed much but the show wasn't as funny as I had first found it – still the same quality, still quick wit and such a strange setting for a television show, the Korean war. But I paid more attention to the fact that, yes, they were in a war and yes, people were dying and the show was trying to make a point.

Hawkeye, in his nearly-passive, bitter way, was talking about the hardships of war and his wish for both sides to reach a peace agreement but he was there to help and never dwelled for long.

Something exploded, the injured were rushed to the MASH 4077, putting an end to the conversation on screen and James shut the set off.

Strange, that M*A*S*H was actually a kind of dark show, comedy all wrapped up in death and war and no, it wasn't as funny as I had first found it. I suppose death and war were not funny to one in the middle of it. James seemed to share my thoughts, as he sat quietly and said nothing for long moments.

"Are you coming to bed?" It wasn't that late.

I squirmed.

"Um, no. I think this is a marathon, I haven't seen it in years. You go, I'll be up later."

**abc**.

Sirius showed up later, loudly and drunkenly and apologetically. Bridget was staying at a mate's place tonight, he informed me, apparently unaware of the time. Just gone 4 o'clock and it was a frosty night, I could tell, for the end of his nose was red and condensation from his breathing had led to icicles on his beard. Sirius had grown a beard.

"Why?" I asked groggy and confused, for I had dozed off though not for as long as it seemed. One of those strange naps where it feels like hours but was only minutes.

"We're through, me and her. No use for it anymore, she doesn't. I don't love her, is the problem. I might actually be cheating on her, too, to tell you the truth."

"Sirius," He was standing in the door, letting in the cold and it was a bright, clear night and I couldn't quite understand the expression on his face.

"Come in, we're not heating outside."

He stepped inside, shut the door, blew on his hands and rubbed them together.

"You sound like my grandmother."

Without another word of explanation he headed for the stairs.

"So, what, you're here to get your things?" I hedged, following behind him, wrapping my sweater closer around me. There was something off about him. Not even the drunkenness or the beard would normally obscure the typical Sirius lurking beneath, no, there was something more.

"Listen," He turned to face me, a bit unsteady on his feet and balanced himself on the wall. "What're you doing up? Didn't mean to wake you. Where's Prongs? I've kind of got some news."

I stared up into his eyes and suddenly it was more than a year ago and I was younger and he was too and I remembered kissing him but only vaguely and only strangely. Had that really happened? So much of my life seemed out of place, distorted, it was hard for me to think of things before James because I remembered them in a different light. The moments when I was reminded of him, overwhelmed at the thought of him were usually ill-chosen ones, like when staring up into Sirius Black's grey, sad eyes. It was easy to see, remembering him then and thinking of James now, that things really had changed. And well – some things had changed for the better and some things had become worse but both boys were older than a year or two should do to anyone. There was age and sadness in Sirius's bearded face, drunkenly obscured eyes.

Bridgett, really? I always assumed their whole thing was about sex and could not imagine either of them being really broken-hearted about it. Especially if he had some girl on the side...

Sirius wasn't a broken-hearted kind of guy, I decided or at least not in the typical way – It was a moment later he told me what was really going on and yes, he was capable of a broken heart in some cases.

Regulus Black died that night.

**Abc**.

"**Revival", by Soulsavers.**

**Abc.**

Hello! I know it has been awhile and it doesn't seem possible it has taken this long to get a new chapter up. I apologize, time gets away from me quite easily, obviously. Most of this chapter was written in December of '08, however. I suppose that's why it feels like it should've been done ages ago. So, the chapter was kind of written in chunks. A couple of chunks here and a couple there and I guess that's why I feel differently about different parts of it. I'm not sure how I feel about it, I feel good about it. I like it. I like trying to deal with a more involved Lily & James and move things along. Anyway, whatever your opinion – I just wanted to get a chapter up and let you know it's not over yet! School, however, is consuming my soul. Review if you please! Thanks for reading.


	37. Open Invitation

**Chapter 37  
**"**Open Invitation"**

**abc.**

"**The Matter of our Discussion", by Boom Bip.**

**Abc.**

_Lily,_ I found scrawled on the back of an old _Prophet – _

_I had to leave and tell Sirius, please, it is not because of some silly broken heart. He and I were both well aware of the situation we were in and I just realized when he said – I don't love you and I'm seeing someone else, well...I realized I was tired of sitting still. I've been sitting still for too long. _

_My life had become stagnant, just waiting waiting for me to wake up and I've woken, Lily. The lease is up in a couple of weeks. You can renew it, of course, but I'm certain that husband of your's may have something better lined up. Absolute Godspeed to you and if we make it through this, I hope to see you again._

_Bridget_

Bridget had left and her things were gone, all the morning after Regulus had died. Or, the morning after Sirius had found out Regulus had died. Being involved with the Death Eaters, well, his death and the circumstances surrounding it were shrouded in mystery. All that was known for certain was that Voldemort or one of the followers had made known to the Black family that their youngest son was dead at the hands of the Dark Lord.

This was some sort of breakthrough for the Order of the Phoenix and some strange tragedy for Sirius. He was estranged from his family – the evil members of it, at least – and his brother included but when he came home that night and told me in the dark that Regulus was dead there was heartbreak in his voice, his eyes.

So, we were going to move. We as in me and James but it felt like the three of us because Sirius never left. Sirius never left and he drank and smoked and had some quiet ache inside of him that he rarely spoke of. I spent my days with him, packing and smoking and drinking alongside him. Not the best of influences, I could easily admit. James's involvement with the Order intensified so that he hardly was home but to sleep. Yet somehow, apparently, he had a place lined up for us and I had no expectations.

"It's crazy you're packing everything up to let him move you to God only knows where."

Sirius would sit and watch television and observe.

"He's probably moving you to a smaller place, you know. Bloody hell, what if he's moving you in with his Mum? Or me, the three of us in old Uncle Alphard's..."

I waved my wand and reminisced over some photographs, tried on old clothes. Typical things that are done when packing.

"Could you turn that down?" I'd never met a Wizard so devoted to the television.

"Sure, sure," A pause and the volume stayed large. "Just...tell me who this is."

I joined him in the living room where his feet were propped up on the coffee table, bottle of beer resting against his side and cigar smoking from between his fingers.

He did not look up, eyes fixed on the screen. I watched the program for a minute, took note of who had grabbed his attention and then chuckled.

"Farrah Fawcett."

An episode of Charlie's Angels was playing and we rarely received American programming but the show with three beautiful women had caught on worldwide.

"Farrah," He repeated, slightly in awe and dragging from the cigar. "She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. Her hair..."

I finished packing in silence and looked around the barren flat with unease in my stomach, while he sat and quietly watched the crime-fighting trio, blonde voluminous-haired Farrah his instant favourite.

With a beer in hand and my feet propped up on one of the many boxes that crowded the living room, I watched with him and could understand the attraction. James would laugh and say he liked that about me – I was not often jealous over another woman's looks, just appreciative.

"You know – someday we're going to be forty and we'll look back on this and it'll all look so easy. It's going to be easy someday, Lil. We might even miss it, the excitement. Seems like we should be enjoying our youth, you think?"

We did not talk of Bridget and I could not think of anything else when I looked at him but his dead brother. How did someone just go through their day with the thoughts of dead siblings in their mind? How did they not just break down and feel as if a piece of them was missing, too? I could not say I liked Petunia, I could not say I even loved her very often but she was my blood and we were bonded for life, whether we liked it or not. And if she died, if she or that horrible Vernon of hers died – my heart would break. Jealous, evil, bitter girl that she was, my heart would break. I wondered how Sirius's heart was still full.

I felt it for him, whether it made sense or not. When I looked at him and thought of him and his situation, his life – my eyes welled and my breathing choked and my chest ached, actually ached for him.

"Sirius," it had been but days and it felt like weeks – since Bridget left, since James decided we were moving, since Regulus's death was made known – and he could still take the opportunity to lose his mind, I decided. "How are you?"

Farrah's bright smile and bouncing hair flashed on screen and Sirius's face did not light up as it had earlier.

He did not respond.

"God, Sirius, it would make all the sense in the world if you were just broken, you know. I'm feeling it for you, I can't _imagine_ your mind right now."

The girls laughed, Sirius's jaw clenched.

He clicked the set off and as he spoke his hand came up to clutch his chest, just over his heart and his voice was low, nearly dangerous.

"I have lost...people I spent a lot of time with. Bridget, even if there is someone else, she was so wonderful. Remus, he comes and goes and fails and flails and none of us know what he's thinking about it all. Regulus...Regulus was not a good person or brother, but when I heard...when they told me, I just – I just remembered him as my toddler brother, scared of the dark or asking questions when I got magic first. I remembered our mutual and brief admiration for one another. He was innocent and smart and well-loved. He looked up to me because I was the oldest, you know. I lost my little brother years ago, Lily, but to know his heart stopped beating, to know he lost himself to that world..."

I choked out a sob and neither of us spoke again until James returned home, news of plots and plans and deals.

When we left that flat forever I gave Sirius a departing gift, rather backwards as I thought of house-warming gifts and wasn't that the world I should be living in? Nice parties with nice people and nice gifts and nice marriages and beautiful babies. I gave him the poster of Farrah Fawcett in a red swimsuit, with her head full of bouncy curls thrown back and a wide, toothy smile across her face. Her leg was bent up and her skin was tanned and she was some sort of all-American girl. But she was beautiful and he loved it and hugged me tightly and breathed my hair.

There was something in moving and feeling and breathing that made me feel like we were going to be okay but also doomed.

Such misplaced faith, I thought, as I cradled his head and James looked on with some fierce protection in his eyes and folded arms. The flat was empty, Sirius's heart was empty and there was something to be said for fresh starts and bright futures – but I did not feel as if moving and leaving and trying was really going to bring us either of those hopeful, hopeful things. I would keep an open mind, though.

**Abc.**

Remus Lupin – somehow still my nemesis as he slowly became everyone else's, too – returned home from a mission wounded and bruised and days away from the full moon. His elbow was broken and they were worried not even magic could heal it before he transformed and ruined it worse.

Remus Lupin was at an odds of sorts. He was the bad guy in our situation and only bad because they needed someone to be bad. He was a werewolf, so he got sent to strange, dark places with strange, dark people and no one really knew if he was ever going to come back from them. Remus was trapped in his dangerous little pattern because there were few other options for him – or any of us – and none of us had a calling anymore, we were all just in it to win. Or live.

We were at the Order headquarters when he came calling back and he smelled of singed clothes and skin, sporting burns on his knuckles that sent me into Medi-witch mode, making me wonder if things were different would I have had stuck it out at St-Mungo's?

I couldn't think of what normal path my life was supposed to have had taken. I could not think of a life without looming danger, anymore, and it worried me that I may never get back on track.

I healed his burns and dabbed his cuts with strong-smelling healing liquid and we were quiet alone in the room as the others discussed the information he'd found out. James would tell me later. He was a good husband like that.

"How's it been?" Remus asked and to be in the midst of the meeting, yet not apart of it was peculiar. The interactions of the Order members was not really something I picked up on before – who was involved, who was passive, who was pissed off and just wanted it over. Sirius took the role of boisterous, pissed off member this eve and he would slam his hand on the table and say that it was not enough, never enough information. We didn't know enough and the other side always knew more, always knew too much, knew our moves before we knew them. Sirius was pissed off and wanted it over and I felt old as I watched him.

"Quiet. He's been quiet 'til tonight, actually. Watched television, sat on his arse and watched me pack without helping. If nothing else I expected to find out who his new woman is."

Remus swallowed and I was working on bandaging and healing what I could – he needed a trip to St. Mungo's to be certain but subduing the pain was the mission for the moment.

"He's angry with me, for not being here. He thinks I should be here more to...to watch out for him, I don't know. Tell him his dead brother is no big deal and fucking around on Bridget is perfectly acceptable for the times," Remus shook his head and looked as old as I felt.

"You look horrible, Remus."

"Can't you just see him getting himself killed? He's getting to that point – not suicidal, sorry, I don't mean that. But he's getting to that...out of control point. He's too impatient for this sort of sit and wait, trial and error, life and death thing."

Arm in a sling and eye bruised, Remus involved himself in the argument occurring around the table as I tidied up and worried about more men than just my own husband.

**Abc.**

"It's so funny to me that we spend our entire lives, our entire childhood, at least – being taught that our family is important. Blood is important and bonds us for life and no one will care about us more than our brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers. That's the kind of love that is irreplaceable, we're to think. But everything I've learned after that is the very opposite. Maybe it's just the times but I've never witnessed so many disposable familial relationships in my life, my own included. Dammit."

James held my hand tightly as we walked, more dragging me along behind him than anything.

"I've spent every day I can remember since I turned ten, I swear, just dreaming of escaping. But escaping what and escaping to where? Because even when I got Hogwarts, my escape, I still dreamt of escaping. It makes me worry I want to escape the very person I am, the very life I lead. I feel so totally alarmed when I catch up to my thoughts and they're all regarding how nice it would be to start over some place far, far away. I don't know where my subconscious is leading me to but it's as if I'm damned until I've found it. I can't breathe easy, can't get over the lackluster family ties I have until I know there's a brand new future out there for me somewhere,-"

I gasped and he sighed and then grinned and took his hand away and stepped forward, gesturing in front of him though there was no need to.

Very suddenly, we were home.

My unfinished rant hung between us, tense, for a moment until I, too, smiled and looked through the dark to see where he had brought me. It was nearly funny how clear things became that night.

There was a wholeness in my heart as I considered what he had done for us and thoughts of being some passive, uninvolved wife diminished. I realized he'd found this place because he had wanted to – because he saw what had been happening to me, how many pieces I was about to be in and he was my husband and he had sought out a home to make us real, to bring me back.

Through all that was incomplete that night, through all that was broken and fractured and falling and fading and impossible, I felt entirely complete and at ease and it was foolish, naive but it was such a warm feeling that cold night.

"What do you think?" He asked, his voice quiet and husky in the lingering-winter air. The collar of his pea coat stood up around his neck and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, his hair wind-strewn and nose red.

He looked like a husband then or maybe I was just looking at him as my husband for the first time since the wedding. Everything was so fast, only flashes of the months really remained in my mind. The rings on my finger were cold against my skin and I looked down at them to assure they were really there.

"I think it's beautiful. I think it's everything anyone would want but never think to look for."

We went inside– all of my things were there, of course, he was a magical, magical man – and that night I learned about Godric's Hollow and I learned a little more of all of the evil going on around us. Godric's Hollow was a Muggle village near Cornwall, though with a generous Wizard's history, as well. It was a small but lively village, private but friendly. The home he had found us was a cozy one, roomier than what you'd expect but with all of the warmth a cottage in such a village should offer.

There was a fireplace in the living room and a veranda on the front, flower boxes on the windows, cobblestone path and a large back yard. Goosebumps rose along my arms when I could very clearly, save for blurriness around the edges, see a future here with him and even, maybe, some crazy day, a family.

He had not done any decorating, for which I was thankful and felt a bit more apart of the process than I had. I apologized, I kissed him, I thanked him for watching out for me, for not leaving me behind – For being aware of my imminent suffocation from our world of problems but never interfering to the point of having my feel inadequate.

"We can build this up together. Furniture and photographs and everything...food, beer." He chuckled and I thought he looked absolutely dashing in his grey knit sweater and his dark jeans, boots kicked off and glasses unfogging.

"What an idea, starting our life together. Why didn't we think of it sooner. Good timing. We've got people to take care of now."

"Sirius is going to come back around better than ever, Lily."

"And Remus?"

"He'd never betray us." Doubt barely there on the tip of his tongue.

We had a bed and we had a curtain in the bedroom and we slept soundly that first night and I hadn't even seen the place in the daylight but it felt like home even in the cloak of dark.

I could've cried, I would've cried – I waited to cry until he was fast asleep – Because I felt stable and I felt safe and felt so securely in love with him but sometimes there was nothing like stability and safety and security to shake you up. Sometimes there was nothing like hope and happiness and oh, prayers to shake you to the very core because there it all was and there it all could go.

When he held me that night, I took note of it. I was aware of how I instinctively took the left side and turned away from him, curling up and making myself comfortable and then he'd find his place. That night it was him pressed to my back, one hand curled over my stomach and up under my top and the other rubbing small circles on my scalp until he drifted off. It was warm, not too warm because of the cold night, and I wondered how this was comfortable, how this was nice. To be so close to someone, so void of any personal space – it was funny to me that this was how people were, this was how they slept. I could not remember compromising my sleeping positions for this shared one and I decided it was just something that came with attraction, love, a bond.

I felt more alive that night than I'd ever in the last year. I was well aware of all coming down on us, well aware of the trouble we could get into and the trouble already plaguing our world. It was that clarity, that comprehension that had me breathing easier. There was no time to worry about lost families, my own or someone else's, and there was no time to regret and doubt and complain. Everyone should live their lives, I thought, as if they're not going to get another chance for anything.

"What's the matter?" He awoke and we had no clock but the sky was brightening and I wanted to sleep before dawn was truly on the horizon. He heard my crying, felt it, rather than saw it. His fingers wet themselves on my cheeks.

"Nothing. This is so right. I just am so happy but so worried, so aware. I'm sorry."

"Mmm," he murmured and he nuzzled his face into the back of my neck and the feeling was instant comfort. "You think too much. I love you."

There was really no need for anything else.

**Abc.**

"**Open Invitation", by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.**

**(hidden track after "the Line").**

**Abc.**

**If you are reading, thank you for reading. I hope summer is well for all.**


	38. Take Me In

**Chapter 38  
**"Take Me In"

**abc.**

I dreamt the entire first week we lived in Godric's Hollow. I'd never been a dreamer – not a dreamer in the unconcious state of mind sort of way, at least – but the dreams were vivid, unreachable things. I had been a dreamer in regards to the future and success and hopes. I could see what I wanted as the years would pass and I could see what I should look like and feel like. But I was awake when I dreamt of my future, never dreamt when I was asleep.

Until that first week, when my dreams were so startling that I would wake up more exhausted than before I slept. And I could remember my dreams, in detail, which I didn't think was common.

My dreams spanned different things. I dreamt of death and terror and destruction and horrible, horrible things that wet my eyes and made my heart pound. I saw people I loved lifeless and cold and bloody and broken. I saw the end of our world and I could not see myself, so I assumed I was gone, too. I saw bad things that broke my heart and dreams were not meant to be that way. They were what you called nightmares, I assumed. The nightmares were long, mean, painful things but the dreams in between were quick bursts of hope and sunshine and love.

I dreamt of having a tan and I smiled remembering it. I dreamt that we were on some west, sunshine coast where things were warm and there were no Dementors to change the weather to some foggy, rainy mess. I dreamt of the sun and it was warm and we were happy and James was by my side and I felt whole and swollen and well.

I dreamt of Sirius happy and calm and sober and in love. I dreamt of his handsome face smiling again and fuller than his recent weight loss had changed. No more hollow, sunken cheeks or dark eyes. I dreamt of those eyes alight again and not so distant, dull, faded.

I dreamt of being pregnant. I saw myself rounded, my cheeks protruding further when I smiled, my stomach some perfect ball shape, my hair was longer and frizzy and there was a dewy glow that I didn't recognize. My breasts had grown to an unnatural size and I saw myself with not much further to go – I could hardly walk but I looked happier than I could ever remember being in my entire life.

I was nineteen years old and these were not things I expected to dream of.

**Abc.**

The cold stung my eyes as we trudged over the frosty ground, through the hard snow. My nose ran and I wiped at it with my mittens, tugging my hat low over my ears but I thought the worst sound in the world was crunching snow through covered ears. I performed a charm on my boots to keep them quiet and the group nodded and followed suit. They thought I was clever, I was just trying to keep the ache in my head at bay. I did not even think of being silent to ward off enemies.

Because we were surrounded by them.

We'd been compromised and by that I mean – we were in danger. A couple of ours had been taken out and a retaliation was planned but only through the Auror's of the Order and only with information that had been extracted from the Ministry. The rest of us were off to keep safe.

We were off for safe-keeping and it would not be long now before safe-keeping meant keeping secrets and keeping secrets meant secret-keeping...

The moon was high and the sky was clear and it was late at night or early in the morning, I wasn't sure because in the wintertime everything looks the same most of the time and no, Lily, use your common sense, it must be near midnight or just after if the moon's that high – 5 AM would be a lower moon but no sunrise. I forgot about sunrises lately because we hardly saw daylight and on we trudged through the cold, biting air.

There was no wind or movement or breath, just that air that hurt your lungs to breathe. It was so cold so of course we were out in the elements and my legs began to shake after awhile and warming charms wore off and were redone and I was in the middle of the group and James was behind me somewhere murmuring softly with Sirius, Remus and Peter and we had Mad-Eye with us until he was called on from the other half of the group.

It had to be somewhat professional, we were told. The Ministry had to put on somewhat of a show, take care of what we were trying to take care of. We had to work together and the minute we started too our men were ambushed on a mission and we lost and they gained and they would fix it, the Ministry promised. So, off went the most powerful – title wise – members of the Order to try to police the Death Eaters and it was almost laughable to consider arresting those people because they were unknown but for Lord Voldemort and there was no proof on those we did know – half of Sirius's family for example – and you could not just ambush them back and arrest them all when they murdered with a swish of the wand and disappeared just as quickly.

Things were looking down.

The only sound were the murmurs of the group, easily mistaken for some animal or breeze or swaying tree. I felt as if I were nine years old with cold ears and nose and frozen cheeks and wide eyes, bright from cold-prodded tears. I felt so much apart of something bigger than myself or any of us and I wondered if it would make a difference, if we'd survive this soon enough to see our efforts pay off.

I was becoming more aware of this separtist, Muggle-hating world we were living in, being terrorized by a demented Wizard with far too much power for even the best – Dumbledore – to contend with. The Ministry was at odds, people were falling apart at the seams and we were trying and hoping and praying to stop the spread, to confine it before the deadliness was all-consuming.

There was something about a bone-chilling February night that makes you feel alive. Your blood is pumping and your extremeties are numb and your mind is whirring and every heavy thought you've had are there and every dream and yearning you've had seem possible and there is nothing but present and future, past is unimportant and we were moving forward...

"Wands," Mad-Eye breathed and we all stopped in our tracks and held our breaths and

I wondered when our nerves would catch up to us. When this would all be too much, when Mad-Eye would drop of a heart attack, when Dumbledore would disappear and never come back, when Sirius would just turn and lose his mind and maybe Remus would finally join the Dark Side and Peter Pettigrew would soon surrender – I wondered how long this could last for. How much longer we would be young before we were old with grief and worry and loss.

We moved again when it turned out to be nothing of concern and Sirius made some sound that suggested he wished more than anything that it would be something because he wanted to take someone out, he wanted to finish someone off – his own cousin, perhaps? – and it made me nervous to watch the change come about in him.

Murder was such an easy thing on both sides now.

Frank and Alice Longbottom had gathered together after the group arrived and were whispering to one another, hurriedly and importantly and he brushed her hair back from her raw face and her eyes were shining. To watch that sort of love on display scared me.

And there was a moment, when Marlene McKinnon had lit her wand and there was a brief second of light aside from that of the moon, when I looked back and saw the four of them behind me, surveying the place we would set up camp – and James's hazel eyes glinted in the light and they were different than I was used to and my arms goosebumped despite the fresh warming charm and it was for a rush of a thousand emotions evoked by the look in his eyes.

I felt collapsable, as if any second this would be it and I would just take him and run off and there was nothing more I wanted then, no other person I cared for but him. He was all I wanted and I know he felt inadequate, he felt as if he was doing a bad job of taking care of me and protecting me but I did not want for that, did not need to be shielded I just needed honesty and bravery and him and I felt an indescribable warm well inside of me and my breathing quickened and I felt like running for all of the potential we had and all that we could lose.

I sought him out blindly, as darkness returned and protecting charms were cast all around the wooded area and only colourful sparks and streams lit my way as I fumbled and stumbled through the people and snow to his knowingly awaiting arms.

Oh, if only things were as simple as rushing to him and being held by him and running away with him. If only it were some movie when we made the decision to love one another forever that then we could runaway, with me riding shotgun while he wore sunglasses and we were in some car with the top down and the sun shining.

But it was a February night with breath hanging still and trees frosty with cold, snow crunching and twigs snapping and people breathing and mumbling and smoking and wishing and hoping and giving up and crying and fighting...

I breathed in the smell of sweat and outdoors and cold and liquor on him for a few moments and his arms were long, wrapped around my back and firmly holding the back of my head against his chest, one hand against the small of my back and he made me feel feminine and lovely and needed and wanted and rested and well even despite the mammoth coat and boots and mits and scarf and hat I wore.

He was warm and strong and there and good but there was something different, something off, something darker in being so close to him, something nearly scary and the transformation of these boys, James and Sirius, to these frowning, protective men was a product of the war.

It was war against all odds and I dreamt of leaving it all behind that night.

**Abc.**

"**I and Love and You", by the Avett Brothers.**

**Abc.**

I awoke late in the night, early in the morning and the fire had died down and there was a flutter and flurry of snow as the door opened to the small camp, someone had just switched patrols and I could hear them stomping their feet and blowing on their hands. There was still no movement in the air, an eerily quiet, breathless night. It was as if the entire world was holding it's breath with us, waiting on word and news and change.

Wrapping my coat around me I got up from the cot I shared with Marlene rather than James – it seemed more like a camping fun sleepover than an escape from attacks that way.

Sirius, Remus and two other members were changing places, just precautionary considering the protection we'd taken around the small camp. Sirius had a smoke in his mouth and Remus was holding a flask in his gloved hand.

I went to the camp stove and brewed a quick tea, prodding the leaves with my wand to get some taste from them. I offered a cup to the two Marauders and they accepted, Remus dumping the dark liquor into his and then Sirius's and offering me the remnants. I finished it with a swig.

We gathered in the small room off of where everyone else slept, not separated by a door due to the cramped space. It was the best that could be done outside of a tent and everyone had rejected that idea considering the frigid temperature and constant need to replenish warming charms.

"February air burns as much as this stuff," Sirius murmured and his face was red with cold as he swilled his tea.

Remus nodded his agreement and then sighed to me.

"How are you doing, Lily," not necessarily a question but an acknowledgement of my presence there.

"Fine." I held my arms tight around myself. Sirius finished his cigarette and flicked the butt out.

"Is everyone either drinking or smoking by now?" I asked and Remus chuckled and somehow under the influence of liquor and caffeine and cold he was friendlier, looked warmer despite his cold bitten skin.

"One way or the other to get through."

"Hmm." I mused, poured my own tea and held it in both my hands to warm them. It was hard to believe that this was where we were, that it had all come down to this. I wanted to talk to Sirius, to touch base because since we moved I hadn't seen him nor had he seen our house, our home.

But the relationships I had established with each of them – Sirius, some damaged destructive mess of companionship and love and support in times of need and Remus a more critical, hostile one with friendliness at unexpected moments, of endearment – made it strange to try to carry on a conversation that encompassed issues I wished to address with each of them, so instead we just talked about the weather and Godric's Hollow and Sirius cussed Regulus Black's name a few times.

He bade goodnight before Remus, kissing me on the cheek and smelling like liquor and smoke and frost.

"So," Remus kicked his boots off and sat down, rubbing his feet.

"Sirius is sleeping with Marlene."

"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm bunking with her because James said he'd be up and down all night, on watch and stuff..."

Remus scoffed.

"Sirius is _fucking_ Marlene, m'dear."

"Oh. Oh! Really? Wasn't quite expecting that one...So, she was who he was with? The cheating thing that ended him and Bridget?"

Remus nodded and I felt out of the loop.

"But it's more than what he had with Bridget," He told me and I missed her long dark hair in braids and her sparkling eyes, smile, laugh. I missed her before she became bitter like Sirius. They were too good of a match in the end. She thought of Ray far too often to have moved on so quickly and so they just stewed together, just resented the very path that had brought them here.

"Not to insult her, at all, but they both knew what it was. With Marlene...He's quiet about it, you know, not very like Sirius. I'd say he loved her if I knew better. Blimey."

I wondered if he would change to the glowing handsome vision I'd dreamt of. Love, oh love, I couldn't imagine what it would do for Sirius to love and be loved back. I couldn't imagine what it would do for Remus, either. Both of them – all of us – were so aimless, so without direction.

"Good for him. I think love would look good on him. I'm tired of this, I'm not certain I understand it...I don't know when I'm supposed to start actually living as opposed to...fighting and trying. When do we start careers and families? Do we have to wait out the war and hope something comes together afterwards? I figured this would last a little while and then we'd start our real lives but..."

"World as we know it is gone. This is our real lives now. Ah, maybe James could've been an Auror or you a Medi-witch or Sirius just some whackjob out to make a lot of money...I thought I'd travel around, meet a thousand beautiful women and have stories to tell. Not stories about cold-blooded murder and a sort of prejudice that's destroying our world..."

Remus's eyes pierced me and I bit my lip and my face fell and he was right – these were our lives, this war was where we lived.

"What're we going to do," I whispered and there was surge in my veins, a desire stronger than ever to end this before we all lost everything, before we did not even have this life, this war-torn world, before we had nothing and were ghosts of our former selves.

Remus offered out another flask and we drunk to our salvation.

"It'll all work out eventually. Cheers." He said and there was a smile on his lips that was more of a grimace than I'd ever seen.

I went back to bed and crawled in with James this time and kissed him in the dark until it was hard to stop and we were sure going at this blind.

**Abc.**

"**It'll all Work Out", by Tom Petty.**

**Abc.**

Hello. 2010. There's not a lot to say about it – just that it happened so quickly, 2009 is a blur. I hope you all had great holidays and breaks and whatever else you're doing at this time of year. Happy New Year, which is such a strange thing that it's here so soon. I wish when a new year came it was actually a new beginning instead of a return to school and the same old, same old. Maybe some day this education thing will be done? Ha.

This chapter came together quickly and I'm sorry for the time between chapters now. This little story has been chugging along for FIVE YEARS. That blows my mind. I don't remember who I was five years ago. No, that's not true. I was sixteen. I remember sixteen which makes me realize how very old I am now. My friends and I just sort of sit around remarking about how old we are and how fast things have gone by and how it doesn't seem real anymore. It's like playing catch up in our own lives. It's a funny thing, turning twenty and then twenty-one...time just does really strange things to you.

This chapter is just, you know, a darker exploration of the times. It's kind of a rip off from the Deathly Hallows considering the trios camping adventure looking for Horcruxes. BUT. I needed some way to make the whole thing seem real to Lily. As for facts about the war at that time – I just kind of went with it and made it up haha so hopefully it makes sense. I wanted this chapter to be a kind of dount about her and James but it didn't quite turn out that way. I don't really mind, it worked out. Lily's approaching "more mature" era I think! Reflecting on my moody, insightful Lily is annoying because even when she is energetic and youthful she thinks about it too much. Which is kind of the point of the story, so, I guess you have to love it or leave it.

I'm not sure when this thing will come to an end, when I'm tired of writing it I suppose. I like going at my own pace these days, just slamming something out when inspiration hits. It's few and far between lately but I thank anyone who has stuck with me.

Oh, as for the songs – I so love the Avett Brothers right now and that is one of the best songs of the yaer. I love the feel it gives me, this desire to escape all that has hurt you. As for Tom Petty – doesn't really fit the chapter at all but, again, it's the feel that does it for me. So forlorn and chilling, which is what I wanted to convey with this chapter. Ok, longest note ever haha. Done.

For auld lang syne, my jove.

Kaitlyn


	39. The Weary Kind

**Chapter 39  
**"The Weary Kind"

**abc.**

Oh, May was a glorious month and how quickly it went once it finally came. Leaves and birds and green grass and blue skies and warm sun and fresh air. It was as if we were creatures emerging back into the wild after hibernating for a long, harsh winter. Winter became a distant memory and it was funny that it happened every year. You forgot of winter when spring came; forgot of spring when winter came.

By May we were all in this far too deep to have any chance of getting out. I thought those words one day, thought - too far in, no chance of getting out. I did not understand that I meant, even then, that there was no chance of getting out of this alive.

Sirius - beautiful, wonderful, soulful, bitter, tormented Sirius - was likely in love with Marlene McKinnon and his cheeks were rosy much of the time from all of the drink he had. That was a polite way to put it - rosy cheeks from drink. That was a romantic way to think of what a drunk he had become. A drunk who could, I would give him this, handle his drink well and be drunk always without appearing drunk but then again maybe that was the signs of alcoholism? In any case, that kind of disease or addiction or whatever was not really a concern in these times. Everyone drank and smoked and forgot as much as they pleased lately. No one judged anyone with a flask or pack of fags always on hand. How else were we meant to get through it? Sirius was a drunk but a useful drunk and we gave him that. He took it seriously and he fought the battles and oftentimes he limped his way home and this all meant so much to him.

When I looked at Sirius I felt an undying connection to him and I hoped to watch him come through this alive and well and in love and an important constant in my and my husband's lives.

By May - that lush, green, fresh-aired, wide-eyed, new beginning (while we were stuck in the deadest of ends) feeling May - I had started smoking and stopped eating and the weight I'd gained over the winter fell away, or rather shifted to other parts, as my thighs and backside grew but my boobs shrank and my ribs were sharp, my stomach uneasy most of the time. I was looking forward to summer to vanish the sallow colour of my skin, catch up on sleep so black circles disappeared and I was looking forward to summer so I could feel alive again.

James - serious, handsome, worried, loving, aged James - and I were falling into stride as partners. I cared about the Order, I tried in the Order, I understood the situation and my fear was giving way to fierceness that matched his own. Muggleborn and for all intents and purposes, a Mudblood, my stake in this was important. Lord Voldemort was waging war on my very own blood kin and the wrath of this Wizard was destroying all of our lives. It was the most unacceptable thing, I'd realized, and there was something inside of me that knew this would change our very existence.

James held some kind of responsibility over Sirius, making sure Remus or Peter were often with him and they bare-knuckle battled it out one evening, when Sirius was smashed, James teetering on tipsy and we were all pissed off. Sirius came out of it haughty as ever, reckless as the teenager he was, with the worst black eye I'd ever seen. It was swollen and purple and black and blue and he was proud as anything over it. James broke a knuckle or two and his nose. It was funny to me that this war, this feud, this battle against the Dark Side was so incredibly in the incapable hands of young witches and wizards with a penchant for being volatile. We had our elders and those adults to guide us but we had not even turned twenty yet and were head over feet involved in this. Were I not to be drunk and bare-legged and tan and single and fun at nineteen? We would have been different people without this war.

I yearned for the beach by the time May turned to June, as it so quickly did just by the time you were comfortable with it, for the salty ocean air was a kind of comfort that reminded me of my childhood with my grandparents. They lived near the ocean and oh, when it was warm, when it was summer, it was beautiful and calming and I decided to plan a trip.

"He's ticked off at you, eh?" Sirius had a habit of being around the most when James and I were struggling. Although this was a rarity, the periods of struggle lasted long enough to wear on the nerves and will to carry on.

"What of it," We were out on the grand veranda of our Godric's Hollow home and when we moved here in the winter I did not believe we would ever see summertime.

He grinned and the ice in his glass clinked as he swallowed some of the whiskey and let out a hiss of pleasure afterwards. It was his drink of choice and he smelled of it so often I did not mind anymore.

Summertime was always good to Sirius in ways that it hadn't the chance to be good to me. That man could walk outside for mere minutes under the sun and come in looking as if Cherokee ran in his blood, although it was more likely to be some French instead. He was evenly tan, although his forehead was a bit more red than the rest of him. He'd wear his shirts with a couple of buttons undone and jeans so threadbare they might as well not be there. Sometimes he'd dress it up with beige shorts, but his arms were always on display and rightfully so. They were muscular and tan and he and I were a wonderful contrast.

"Lover's spat always lightens things up, hmm? He's too dark now, I think. Needs to loosen up a bit."

"It is honestly," I paused to drag long off a cigarette and inhale deep and let it out slowly. "all because I want to go to the beach. I want to get a tan and swim in the ocean and fall in love with him again. I even said you lot could come, that seemed to make it worse."

"He's becoming his dad. Still got his hair for now but otherwise he's his father. He sacrificed his personal life for professional and Prongs...Well, Prongs just can't find the lines, aye? There really isn't any professional life right now, so he's getting his wires crossed with you and the Order, but you're apart of the Order - He just has no separation. I think."

"He acts ancient but he's nineteen. I don't expect miracles from him - none of us understand this." I smoked and smoked and drug it down into my lungs and held it there and felt fit to burst before breathing out. The haze of smoke enveloped where we sat on the veranda and we both sighed and crickets were singing, frogs talking, dusk falling, a chill in the June air and it was strange to be alive.

"What a day for the weary," Sirius said and he looked at me with really open eyes for the first time in a long time. "I'm weary, Lily."

"This isn't the time to be weary, my friend."

"Hear, hear," He raised his glass and drank the remnants of whiskey, kicked his feet up onto the railing and folded his hands over his stomach, which was softer than his days as a always-on-the-go, fast metabolism Hogwarts student. He looked moody for a moment and frowned. "Whatever." He sounded so juvenile it was endearing.

The sun was set and the last glow washed over the porch and I thought of running and Sirius was suddenly moody for whatever reason and then James returned home, setting his things down and I wondered if he was built to be alone in a way I could not be.

"Hi," Sirius and I called in unison and he joined us outside after pulling a sweater on. I loved June evenings that were cool enough for sweaters, mild enough for bare legs and drinks and cigarettes on the veranda.

Fading bruises either from his and Sirius's fight or that one botched Order plan were shadows beneath his glasses and he was darker, Sirius was right, both in appearance and presence.

"Evening dear love of my life," Sirius grinned sloppily and James rested a hand on my shoulder and then bent down for a kiss.

"Took the words from my mouth." He muttered to me and I squeezed his hand.

"Go home, Sirius," James told him and he nodded.

"One more smoke with the wife and I'm off." I handed him the pack and lit my own and James sat in the chair across from me. He was not a judgemental non-smoker and none of us were really non-smokers or smokers or non-drinkers or drinkers anymore. Whatever we felt like, we did, and when we were tired of it - we stopped. There was a level of control over certain things in our life that we needed. Everything else was falling away and quite fast but we could decide to smoke, decide to eat, to drink, to love, to hate, to stay, to try, to laugh, to cry, to be strong or fall apart.

"You do it wrong, Lily," Sirius chided as he puffed on his own and he blew smoke rings, starting small and growing larger. "You know, I only started smoking because I wanted to practice smoke rings."

I laughed and James shook his head, chuckling a bit.

"It's funny because it's true."

Sirius fumbled through some instructions on how to properly inhale and increase the tar intake into my lungs but I did not listen, just taking small drags and creating smoke rings of my own.

"It's best to smoke at night so you can see the smoke rings. Daytime smokers are the true addicts." Most of what he said was ridiculous.

"Seeing Marlene tonight?" James asked Sirius and I figured he was trying to push the relationship with Marlene so he would stop drinking so much and contain himself a bit. I was not sure it would work because although they were nearing the point of an official relationship, his boozing was as hardy as ever.

"Mayswell." He mumbled, finished his cigarette, kissed me on the cheek - and I felt decidedly grown up and classy as I arched my neck out and held the cigarette in my hand at an angle away from our faces and it felt like we were some from movie - clapped James on the back and then Disapparated.

James looked serious again as his best mate left.

He did not speak as we went inside, watched the evening news, ate a quick meal.

He did not speak for a long time and it was around 11, when I was considering a shower to deal with the tangled mess of hair on my head and the stank of smoke on my skin that he spoke again.

"Just come to bed," He was already there, propped up with pillows, dressed in plaid shorts and with the quilt pulled over his legs but revealing his naked torso.

"No no, not tired. Didn't do much today..." I drifted off into my own thoughts as I stood tangling my hair around my fingers.

"Come to bed." He said more pointedly and I noticed his glasses were off and so was the wireless set on the nightstand. Usually he was tuned into some information news station most of the night or else sports.

"Huh, what? No, maybe I'll make us a snack." I patted my stomach and twisted around to look at my reflection in the mirror, James's steady gaze on me the whole time. It was a comfortable night and we left the windows open, shades pulled up and we could hear passersby either heading out or back home after a night at the pub and cars rolling along the road. It was comforting, something like when things were quiet at night and you could hear a plane overheard - some connection to an outside world, to know, however impossible things may be, we were not alone.

He used his wand to turn the lights off, leaving us in darkness save for moonlight and suddenly lit candles on the dresser.

"Come to bed." Softer and quieter but huskier and no less demanding this time.

I fumbled through the darkness and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over my bare legs, the strap on my top sliding down and I reached for him through the shadows.

"Hi," I said and he muttered it back, rubbing his hands down my arms.

"You've been quiet all day," He stayed quiet still, hands doing the talking as he pulled the other strap of my top down. "Why should I sleep with you when you won't talk to me?"

He laughed and I might as well have because who was I kidding, when his hands went places and his lips followed.

"Too much to say most of the time," Lips on my ear and then my neck and he paused there, my pulse quickening against his kiss. Sometimes I still felt young and innocent and naive when he touched me and it was invigorating.

"I'm your wife, I want to hear it," I murmured but he was persistent and he tossed my top away but then stopped and just pulled me close and we listened to the sounds of the night. Sometimes, even when we were intimate like this, I wished there was more than just him and me. I wished Sirius would stay or Remus would visit or Bridget would come back or Alice and Frank would bond with us or even Peter around would be nice. They were there during some days but the nights were - nighttime was lovely and my favourite time but they were lonely and long and dark hours and it was hard to find a balance.

"I love you." He moved again, rolling gently to lay atop me and when he was this close, his body an impossible distinction from my own, I felt insane and weak with need.

I could barely breathe when he finally kissed my mouth and his hands went up my legs and he groaned and he was such a leg man, one hand on my thigh and the other gripping the hair at my scalp.

There was nothing besides him that night and it was fine and perfect and close, close, closest we'd ever been.

"Love you, too," I thought I said but it was lost in a whisper and oh maybe we could stay caught up in a perfect June night forever and we would all be fine, fine fine...

**abc.**

**"(please, please, please) Let Me Get What I Want", by the Smiths**

**abc.**

In times of war, times of hiding and running and secrets, funerals were not public affairs. When we were still at Hogwarts, when James's dad died and Bridget's Ray died - there were funerals attended by many and things were still okay, building up and tense but nothing like it would be.

When members of our Order and of the Wizarding Community at large just...started disappearing, there were no funerals. It was clear they were gone and dead and we did not need to see the green light to confirm it. There was no sense wondering if oh, yes, Voldemort did find them but they must've escaped to somewhere. They were done in and somehow, at that time, no closure, no conclusion to their lives was cruel, cruel torture but also...made it more bearable. Would all of these wonderful, kind, courageous people not just return when it was all over with? There was a war but it was some kind of fictional thing and it would end eventually and gravemarkers would be unturned as people went home, started their real lives, had a good laugh about it all...

It was certainly enough to make me lose my mind.

Funerals were not public affairs anymore. When we lost Dorcas Meadowes, personally at the hands of Voldemort, we all gathered in the stuffy Order headquarters, crammed chairs and choking heat to say a few words about her and throw back a few drinks in her memory. It was July and we were sweaty and moody and depressed and I would have been perfectly happy to stay in the cramped headquarters, not having to step back out into this so-called real world.

Dumbledore was, for the first time since I had known him, starting to look older. He was ancient to begin with but you could tell now - The stress from all of it could even weigh Dumbledore down and it showed in the lines on his face, the darkness in his eyes. Dumbledore was starting to worry.

So were we.

Whereas June passed with a lovely, slow, warm grace, July began hurried and murderous and mournful. I hated that I only appreciated things once they were gone and so many things were now gone...

June, though, lasted. June went slow and the air dripped with honey and dew and humidity from just past thunderstorms. We made a trip to the beach, a couple of nights alone and the rest of the week with Remus, Sirius, Marlene, Peter and the Longbottom's in tow. There were bonfires and beer and late nights watching the stars come out or early mornings watching the sun rise. We swam and ate and drank and I burned then browned and there were more freckles on my skin but I also had some tan. The salt stained our skin and textured our hair and we all came back from the week away looking better for the wear. I felt some peace, love, life motto after that week and wished it were simpler to change most things.

We were losing the war.

I remembered a conversation in June, that long lovely June, with James about the Longbottom's. When we had gone away to the beach it was easier to say some things like we loved each other and were fearful but also hopeful but mostly, mostly just terrified. Alice had beamed at all of us around the bonfire and squeezed Frank's hand and her eyes were a bit glazed from the alcohol but no less vibrant.

"Frank and I are thinking of a baby, we're - we're trying for a baby."

She told me later, quieter, more serious that they just wanted one before it was too late because who knew and yeah, who knew but it was wartimes and was a baby going to make anything better or just more complicated? But I could not deny that she looked lovelier and happier and her and Frank's love was so evident in everything they did.

James and I had come home and relaxed on the couch and were fatigued but in a satisfied way and I held his hand and tangled my legs with his and asked him what he thought.

"Do you want to have a baby?" He did not sound shocked or even let on he heard me for a few moments.

"Why?" Was all he said and the quiet, steady, wonderful man he was let my mind wander far away from the times we were in.

"Well. Frank and Alice are. We're losing the war. God, James, we're losing the war. Do you want to have a baby - just to get it over with, just because we can and who knows how longer that'll be true? And because we love each other...a baby, that'd be some kind of salvation right now, don't you think?"

"No. No, no. No, I don't want...Hmm," a smile inexplicably formed on his lips and he closed his eyes but shook his head. "No, I don't want a baby. I mean to say, not now, not at nineteen, not with a so-called Dark Lord around, not when there's moral peril around every corner. If I wanted a baby, it would be with you though. And thinking of a green-eyed little one...it's hard to say no but - no. No, that's ridiculous. Do you want to have a baby?"

I did not let myself think of a baby with a head full of messy black hair and my green eyes and maybe James's nose but my smile...I didn't think of it and just said what I meant, what I knew to be true in my mind but where my heart betrayed me.

"No, I don't want a baby." I kissed him. We didn't talk of it afterwards and a baby at nineteen, my God, was so far out of the question...but maybe it would be a girl with my eyes or maybe it'd be a boy with James's hair and she'd like Charms and swimming but the boy would play Quidditch and everyone would say, you play well like your father but you have your mother's eyes...

The Longbottom's had been trying for a baby longer than they let on, for two weeks into July, a month after they first told us, I went to stay with Alice for a week because she had miscarried. She'd been likely two months along and had gotten ill and bony and stress on top of that - well, it was too much and her body let go. She bled so much they could have lost her too.

"Maybe it's just the universe letting on that a baby isn't the most practical thing right now." James's desensitization to the situation surprised me.

"Maybe they were stupid to think it could work."

I glared at him and shouted at him and my going to stay with Alice was not so much at her request as it was my insistence - the month between our long, lovely June vacation and our murderous July had taken an impact on us.

The summer moved as if a season fully detached from the rest of the year and meanwhile I felt fully detached from myself and could scarcely remember how I once was, or what I thought of in school or of the days and years I had already lived.

It was strange to forget who I was. It was strange to look at him, in the middle of July when it was so hot and the sun was so bright, sky so blue, and wonder where he came from and if it wasn't for me, where would he be? If we had not married so young, if we had not found love or something akin to love, love enough to bet our lives on it - where would he be, what would he do, how would he love? I imagined a colder man, someone beyond their years and proud of it, stiff upper lipped and uncompassionate. I did not want to see it happen to him, although it was, before my very eyes.

There was more to the world than death, plans, the Order, Aurors, Voldemort and Death Eaters. There was love and light and babies and hope and for him to truly look at Frank and Alice's loss as, well, not much of one - I did not understand him.

I could not imagine him changing so greatly, for if he had I could not be with him but how could I not be with him and I just wanted to help him, to make him stay as he was but more than that, I wanted to be away from him. There was a struggle going on but this one was internal.

I prayed for us while I was gone.

**abc.**

Remus, dear, werewolf Remus, came calling to Alice's mid-week after a hard night out with Frank and although they had worked hard they were also likely drunk.

He hugged Alice and told her he was sorry and there was a sincerity in him that was lacking in most people during these times.

"I'm handling it all right," She admitted, nodding and she was still pale, still shaky. "It was scary, the whole thing. Scary to be pregnant, scary to be scared...scary to lose it..."

Frank wrapped her in a sweater and the warmth that radiated around them was so intimate that Remus and I left the room, stepping into the kitchen to give them a moment.

"Are you going to get divorced so soon?" Remus asked, as he rummaged through the fridge for a beer. He handed me one as well.

"Why on earth would you ask that? My closest friend just had a miscarriage and her husband is running around trying to save the world with everyone else. She couldn't be alone."

He nodded and cracked his beer, drinking it and I noticed he was dressed handsomely. Remus looked better sometimes and it was good to see, well, that he could.

He wore Muggle clothes, a pair of grey trousers, a white button down and a matching suit jacket. The whole thing was rumpled and some buttons were undone, as well as the cuffs but he looked good and well-adjusted and he looked normal. Sirius was a drinker and James was hardening but Remus seemed to be - perhaps he was just so well-jaded from years of torment and judgement that things could not get much worse. He handled it as he handled his life.

"I'm just so tired of it all." I told him and he agreed, raising his beer to mine and swigging it down. It looked like maybe he was getting laid. Some good-hearted woman in his life - I didn't know but I hoped and wondered and smiled at him.

It was easy to like Remus now.

"The summer's just disappearing," He offered and I nodded, wide-eyed. Maybe someone else had the same skewered perception of time as I had. "Most things don't make sense. Time passes in great chunks, you know? Weeks go by and then time stops when something happens, good or bad, and we're paused and then chunks disappear again..."

It was a clunky, unattractive way to describe the passing of our lives.

"Poor Alice..." He said and his face fell, his forehead crumpling and his eyes darkening and he bit his lip and broke my heart.

"I know," I strained and put a hand to my throat, thinking of how Frank had found her in the bathroom, barely conscience and realized it was all over, rushing her to St. Mungo's and praying hard. "It's like...it's so confusing because everyone's offed with a wave of a wand these days but...but Alice had something real, something horrible happen, you know? It's all real and horrible but..."

"No, I know. Losing a baby, bleeding out on the bathroom floor...that's real. That's traumatic and horrible and it's a part of life. Sitting waiting for some Lord wizard to creep around the corner to flash a green light? It's comical almost, isn't it? Is this all really happening?"

I squeezed Remus's hand with my own and was it? How could it all really be happening?

I wondered when I'd worry about bills and employment and holidays spent with family, how to spread it out and babies and friends and houses...

It was times like these, times like Alice's miscarriage, that I realized some day there'd have to be more than this. Some day we'd be real people living real lives, instead of this war, this warfare was ruining us.

I felt like I thought too much about hating it, wanting a change, waiting for it to be over than wondering how it could ever actually end.

"Why are you here? I seem to remember this husband of your's buying a grand house and wanting you to enjoy your summer in it, your lives."

I leaned against the counter and Remus rumpled his too-long hair in a way that was so decidedly James that my heart pained.

"James is just...struggling. We all are, but James is just...so hard sometimes. He basically called the Longbottom's crazy for even wanting a baby, said it was some karmic retribution that they lost the baby. Universe saying it wasn't the right time. It's just stupid, it's just stupid of him. They can have a baby if they want and she lost it, had a life inside of her that she wanted to thrive and she lost it - It was so insensitive I just wondered, what if it were me? Would he be happy about it if it happened to us? I don't know...He's so changed, so hard sometimes."

Remus nodded, tight-lipped, sandy-haired, handsome but weary, so weary.

"Seems like his father a lot to me lately, too. In his blood, I suppose, to take it the way he does...we're young but not at heart, you know? We're bloody middle-aged at heart. Prongs just doesn't know how to...None of us do."

"Just think, though, he gets the way he does because he wants to make a better world and he especially wants a better world so you two can reproduce like rabbits when it's all over."

I laughed and nodded but did not feel at ease and was doubtful I ever would again. It was strange to find myself wishing for a broken heart or some kind of pain because at least broken and pain was feeling and it was easy to not feel at all, to declare numbness over pain but no, broken hearts were so passionate and lively and beautiful. I wondered if I stayed away from James long enough I'd remember what a broken heart felt like and I wondered if I was going to become my mother. I so did not want to be her but maybe she was different than I remembered and it was shocking to not quite remember. I thought I knew who I was but in a way I'd never really recovered and had any of us? Too many thoughts for my defeated little mind.

**abc.**

**"More Adventurous", by Rilo Kiley.**

**abc.**

He hugged me as soon as I came home and his touch left goosebumps on my arms and he said that Sirius had gotten hurt and his mother was ill and he was sorry, so sorry and I told him so was I. We had not the time to get caught up in the chaos around us if we were to have any time together. Together we were strong but divided it was pathetic, as if our core were missing and we had half a brain and I felt lifeless without him and so warm with him.

We went to visit his mother and sister and she was sweet but sad and insightful, while Dani was so fragile and broken-hearted since Jude. Perhaps I was wrong about broken hearts. I remembered the hurt pushing me to the brink and back and I remembered the blood pumping again and breathing quickly and there was such tangible feel of life in broken hearts as teenagers. I suppose losing the love of your life forever was different than the finicky loves of children. I felt sick when I hugged her and never wanted to feel that way, to lose James and also myself with him.

"Are you taking care of him?" Dani asked me and somehow I smiled, crinkly-eyed.

"We're taking care of each other. He's so strong, Mrs Potter."

She took the turn to smile and said I, too, was a Mrs Potter and I finally felt apart of this in an entirely whole, well way.

"Oh, just don't let him go, he might be strong somehow but he's got a tender heart, James does. Sirius, too, but he's more headstrong than James...He'll fracture but James will lose his mind. Not to worry you but just keep close, mmm?"

"I will, we will - keep close."

We were close, together in fact and trapped in a botched Order plan when we came face-to-face with so-called Lord Voldemort.

There was a definite life-before-my-eyes moment. An actual blink of my eye and I could not remember how to move until James pushed me aside and dodged a curse and then I slung one and there was a portkey and somehow -

"Holy fuck," were the first words from our mouths and we were too jumpy and tingly and shaky to look at each other or touch or do anything but breathe. James yelled it all onto Dumbledore and demanded to know how it was all going so very wrong and the only thing to calm me was a tender, near-loving moment between Sirius and Marlene that made me gulp back some strange emotion.

I felt some sort of motherly instinct of these boys and to know Marlene loved Sirius enough to hold his hand and smooth down his singed hair and soothe the burns he suffered with both her hands and magic - to know that made me happy and feel like there was some love life and they were being taken care of and when did I grow to love all of these Marauders so completely?

We spent the night at the Order headquarters, fearful of what could happen when we were alone. Our own families were in pieces and I did not even know mine anymore but we had forged our own in the members of the Order and to watch meals be prepared and hear plans discussed in soft whispers was my lull to sleep and if there was salvation in the world, hopefully I'd wake in the morning.

**abc.**

**Hi. I wanted to get a chapter up so I can progress a bit because by the time I was nearing the end of the chapter I realized it wasn't much of a mover, more of a thinker chapter and I'm pleased with it and hope to turn out the next chapter more quickly. It just always blows my mind how long this has gone and when I still receive reviews - I love it so much and completely intend to finish, whenever that is and wherever it leaves.**

**As you know I'm horrible at action pieces and not very detail-oriented in regards to what is happening at this time ie Order and Voldemort stuff but I feel like Lily's piece-y recollection and thoughts on it make it rushed and frenzied, which is how I feel when I imagine that time.**

**Also, I'm not encouraging smoking but, as it's explained in the chapter, why would they care just then and I'm not going to like, smoking cigars on nice summer nights was a hobby of mine this summer. I just like to incorporate.**

**In response to some reviews, I don't really hiatus I just write when I feel like it and unfortunately it doesn't happen as often as I'd like but I am impressed with the continuation of this story even as I enter 4th year university.**

**Take care and I love you all for taking the time for this! (The name for this chapter was inspired by a song in the movie Crazy Heart, which I loved and Jeff Bridges oh man, and it is great and sad and wonderful).**

**Check out Jenny Lewis's new album with Jonathan Rice. **

_It's gonna hit you with a big wave..._


	40. All that Matters

**Hello! I bet no one ever thought they'd see this update. Well, don't get too excited because...it's The End, and it's also Not Good. Lol. I started writing this chapter nearly three years ago, which is the last time this story was updated. I posted this story in November, 2004. NINE years ago. I hardly remember who I was then, or what I dreamed of...I would have been 14, and I started writing this story even before then, likely when I was 13 because I originally posted it on Harry Potter Warner Brother messaging boards! Wow, so - Wow haha. Lily and James Potter were the first two fictional characters I ever felt real passion for, and in the years since I started writing this story, I have found other muses and other things to write about. But, you never forget your first, and I never forgot All That Matters. I would receive the rare review in the last couple of years, and I would remember all of the researching, all of the reading, all of the crying over Harry Potter books and movies. I would remember the online relationships I formed via Harry Potter love, and how that's something that never changes, because I still talk to those people, and I've formed friendships with others through love of bands, or television shows. I'm lucky to be the type of person who can heal their loneliness by making connections online with kindred spirits, and I have always been this person.**

**So, I just wanted to pay respect to this story, and this fandom, and to end All that Matters because seeing "39 chapters" was driving me nuts, especially knowing I had written some of this final one. So, I finished it, it's not great, the tail-end is just a way to tie it up, to put to rest these characters I spent many years with. I don't promise anything grand in this final chapter, but it brings me peace to be able to say goodbye. I still love Harry Potter, but things have a natural way of continuing on, and I do still write, although I'm old enough now that I think I realize I'll never do anything professionally with writing. I've graduated high school and University through all these years, and I just want to thank everyone for their beautiful reviews and words of encouragement. Continue loving whatever you love, feel passionate about whatever story, music, movie, television, etc, that you want to, and never let go of things that are a piece of yourself.**

**Find happiness wherever you can, for I know it is hard to keep, and your heart hurts and the years change so many things, change us even, and everything is fleeting, so wherever you can, take happiness, pleasure, and peace.**

**Thank you for being apart of my life, and I will continue to write for Downton Abbey, and I also have tumblrs you can connect with me through.  
**

**Take care,  
Kaitlyn**

* * *

There was a moment in November – and perhaps, literally, only a moment – when things were finally, wonderfully...still. I had not felt still in months – years? – But particularly that tumultuous summer of attacks and death and growing up. The first snowfall was upon us – it did not really stick to the ground but it was still calming to stand there and watch it swirling, circling, and falling down.

The air was just cold enough to redden my nose, nip at my hands and when the wind picked up, my eyes would water but I could not blink, did not dare in case I lost the flood of feelings running through me. It had been awhile since I felt so much at once. I felt like myself, felt like the blood in my veins was pumping and my heart was warm again and I was not just some icy figure fumbling through this game of cat and mouse.

The Order was the mouse.

November was the third time we confronted and defied him. We were on a stake out, the Order scattered around in places we had intel about – attacks were going to happen in wide open view on Muggles but there was more than one place we had heard about. Myself and James, Alice and Frank and five or six others were at this particular spot and it was so sudden, so unexpected that Lord Voldemort would show up, not just Death Eaters, that we slung curses and adrenaline pumped and I was fierce and furious and it was our third time – Frank and Alice's too – and we lived and were angry but full of life.

It was mesmerizing and dazing to watch the flakes fall in a slow-motion dance from the grey sky, down to the frozen earth. I felt six years old, I felt wonderful and light and elated and depressed. All at once, I felt crushed and weightless and confused. My head pounded as my heart beat rapidly and it was a wonder my frozen brain could think this much at all.

There was, in fact, something outside of death and plans and maps and attacks, this proved. A change in seasons – look, the world is going on around us and maybe someday we'll walk out of here alive and get to be a part of it...

I could not stop myself from wanting to cry.

I breathed deeply and I had quit smoking about a week before, just on a whim, because I was bored of it, because it did not calm me anymore and why keep at it if I was getting nothing from it? I did not drink or just sleep the days away – I was very present, very aware of everything going on and it was unsettling, in a way, to be so a part of my own life...That didn't really make sense, but for so long I tried to forget what this whole thing was.

Godric's Hollow looked as beautiful in winter as it did through the summer. Our first winter here was a whirlwind one where I felt young and always as if we were running a race but a year later, to know this was our home and we loved and lived and would build a life here – it made things very still. I could be content, I thought, had murder not been lurking around each shadowy corner and had the loss of Dorcas not been fresh in our minds, had our own run-in with Voldemort not made me sure we would die...

I felt the change before I really knew it, I felt it happening without having confirmed it or realized it or wanted it. It made my cheeks burn to think about it and I could not imagine saying it out loud...oh, what a change it would be.

He followed me out into our front yard and he was here so often you would not think he had a place of his own.

"You should be wearing a hat," he handed me one while tugging on gloves of his own. He wore his brown leather jacket even with freezing temperatures and falling snow – if nothing else could be said for him, Sirius Black was not a man of practicality.

"Talking, you're always talking. Just watch for a minute – it's like everything's finally still, taking a rest,-"

"Dying. Winter is when things die, Lily." He was often outwardly morbid but no one so much as blinked at it anymore.

"It's beautiful, in any case."

He was quiet and then a warm smile, "I never love England more than when it's covered in snow."

I smiled and tilted my head up and it was dizzy to watch what looked like the sky coming down – snowflakes blended in with the grey sky until they were almost upon you and I could not agree more about England's loveliness when covered in snow.

"Are you all right?" He asked and his voice was soft and deep and concerned and Sirius would be a lot of things when he grew up, if he grew up. He would be the kind of good man that everyone needed around.

"Be real, Sirius, are any of us?"

"No, but," He stepped back and looked down at me and drew my gaze away from the snow. "We're all miserable, sure, but there's something aside from that with you..."

I bit my lip and looked down to the brown grass, dusted softly with white and dead leaves still hanging around. I looked back to the house, to the smoke coming out of the chimney, felt the warmth, the comfort it offered me and then I looked up into his grey eyes.

It should not, could not be him to know first.

"It's not bad news, necessarily," I croaked out and my lips were cracked and stuck together as I tried to speak.

"I think I know it," He said in a rush and his cheeks were ruddy with cold and drink.

"Don't say it out loud," I interrupted and I tugged the hat on over my ears and looked down at my red hands. "It would kill me for him not to know first."

"Okay," Sirius's brows knitted together as he frowned and I could tell he was thinking hard. "Okay, well...you quit smoking...I come over for a night cap, Prongs pours you half a bottle of whiskey and doesn't notice that you only take a sip before getting some tea. Therefore, no drinking,-"

"Sirius, all of that is entirely unintentional! I'm just bored of smoking and was never as big of a drinker as the rest of you lot,-"

"You're glowing. Everyone looks like utter, down and out shit but you're _glowing_ and you look at James with these eyes – these big, big, hopeful, heartbreaking eyes and it is scary because it didn't take long to figure out,-"

I felt the tears in my eyes and he clung to this as his final point.

"And you're crying at the drop of a hat."

My features crumpled in a sob and I could not explain why, could not understand the provocation of the tears, just knew I felt an overwhelming something clawing inside at my chest and it was all so close to the brim – I bit my lip, nodded vigorously and took Sirius's hand.

I swallowed down another sob, blinked down a few times with wet eyelashes brushing my cheek and then I looked up into his grey, torturous eyes and they were alight and careful but there was something so alive, so excited within them. He looked clean and young and innocent and it was enough to make me hope James would look the same way.

I was not sure, as much I had begged him not to say it aloud, as much as I hoped we would keep it quiet between us until I could fully accept it, I thought I heard him murmur, softly as the wind through the grass, as he pulled me in for a bone-crushing hug -

"A baby."**  
**

The first of December came with a foot of snow and the sun was out to dazzle off of it nearly every day. Winter was starting out nice enough. I forgot how good it felt to be bundled up and how handsome the boys - men - looked wrapped in their scarves, gloved hands shoved into the pockets of their peacoats. There was really nothing more handsome than a well-dressed man in winter. Summer was when they tended to slack off and all look like boring slobs but there was a bit more consideration in winter, a more tailored look. James looked handsome and tall, shoulders broad and he seemed more of a man, more of a husband in winter - maybe because summertime made even a senior citizen of a man look like a child, with short pants and ratty tees. Also, he was more of a man with each passing death.

We went skating in some secluded area Alice knew about - and Frank, me and James, Sirius and Marlene. It was a strange coupley thing that Remus laughed off when invited and Peter looked uncomfortable.

It was a good-sized pond off in the country and it was easy to Apparate to because Alice had grown up near here, or something. The smell of evergreen trees filled the air and there was the faintest, most juvenile flop of excitement in my stomach at the thought of Christmastime - if it were to be normal and peaceful and happy.

Skating in the middle of the woods with the sun high in the sky and icicles sparkling through the trees made it hard to believe there was any such thing as evil out there. All I could be was positive and smiling and weightless when I thought of all of the good to come.

I took my time out when the men got competitive, skating faster than the other, falling down and taking everyone else tumbling with them. Marlene joined in but Alice skated to the side with me, where we sat on a makeshift bench out of a giant log.

She took her hat off as she plopped breathlessly beside me and her smile was wide, her hair shorter than I`d seen it, a pixie cut, and her cheeks rosy and glowing. I had this feeling about her...

"Lily," And her voice was sweet and hopeful and my skin rose as I saw a look in her eye that I recognized so well.

"Yes," She squeezed my hand and my heart leapt for her and no one on the ice could be more oblivious to us but she whispered anyway.

"I have news," I knew before she said it, some kind of same-level realization.

"You're pregnant," I was whispering now and she nodded vigorously and her eyes were shining and wide and bright and she made me believe in everything just then. It was naive of me but hopeful.

"Yes, yes, it's too early...It's too early to be talking about it but I wanted to tell you. I'm so happy, Lily, somehow, in all of this. How'd you guess?,"

I resisted the fleeting urge to share my own news, the same as hers, brushed a hand over my discreet stomach and then smiled at her.

"Womanly instinct," I laughed. "I don't know, you just look like someone who has got what she's been hoping for. You look happy."

"I am," She looked down and I squeezed her hand back and then we rejoined the others on the ice.

A pair of birds flew from a tree up into the sky and there were moments of that day that felt like spring, moments that felt like holiday cheer and even others that made me feel as if this were a normal life, a time of peace and not war...

I did not tell Alice or James or anyone I was pregnant that day.

Instead I just soaked it all in and Sirius and Marlene were something like official now and it was sweet to see, strange to see. When he was with Bridget they rarely left the bedroom but he was like a puppy in love with Marlene - holding her hand and kissing her cheek and he did not seem drunk quite as often but even when he was he was a jolly drunk, not the depressed man he`d been recently. As they skated he held her hand and delicately twirled her around and when she slipped a little, his hand on the small of her back steadied her and she touched his chest - and it made me happy just watching them, made me feel a little more in love just sitting there observnig, not even being them. The newfound love was something contagious and I wonder if he did love her. I remembered it all so well then, how I fell for James.

The little things, the first moments, the wide eyes and lust. Seeing it before my eyes made me warm on the inside. Things could have came together that winter had evil, silent and invisible as it was that day, not been right there with us. Alice was pregnant and Sirius could have settled down and I skated to James, kissed his lips and wrapped my arms around his back and he settled his at my waist and when his hand brushed against my stomach, my heart leapt and my stomach flopped and I sometimes felt it there, inside of me and it was such a strange, surreal time...

I felt eager and dying to know things, to hear about everything he knew and did and wanted and felt, to be with him until the end of time, to have his children and watch them grow and hope for the best for them. It was a sudden, overwhelming feeling and he kissed me and my mind flew with possibilities of the future and what if they were just impossible...

After the skating outing, Frank and Alice went home – Alice wondered aloud as she hugged me in parting if tonight was the time to tell him about the baby and I smiled wide and my cheeks hurt and I wondered the same thing about telling James – while Marlene and Sirius came to Godric's Hollow with us. Remus joined us later, smelling of singed hair with news from the Order, mostly word about new tactics and he explained his burned eyebrows and lashes from practicing new spells. The feel of that day and into the night was stubbornly optimistic.

I sat with a mug of warm apple cider while Remus relayed news to James in boisterous tones, Peter had showed up and was prodding at the wireless set and he was even more withdrawn lately than he had been before. His smile was weak and his complexion grey and I wondered if his mum was sick but did not want to upset him further, so I never thought to bring it up. I swirled the cider around and sipped it and it warmed me to my very soul. I folded a blanket in my lap and my skin was dry, my cheeks burning from the day spent in the cold but also from the crackling, roaring fire in the hearth.

Sirius and Marlene were, to me, the focal point of the room. Remus and James were absorbed in their masculine conversation and it made me smile but also worry because the war was never a far topic anymore – it always would be present, it seemed – and Peter was mutteting away but Sirius and Marlene were just _exuding_ love. I felt as if people surrounding them were invasive and when Peter hit a station on the wireless with a lovely, holiday-esque song playing Sirius asked him to stop. He nuzzled into Marlene's neck and his mouth moved by her ear and he was softly, undetectably to the rest of us, singing the song that was playing and my God, I thought, how utterly romantic it was. She was holding a glass of wine with her knee propped up and her long, thick, shiny dark hair was swept over one shoulder and she laughed prettily as he sang and then pressed a kiss to her collarbone. Just as quickly they snapped out of it and she finished her wine and then offered to get everyone refills, to which I said I'd help.

Marlene was very pretty. Alice was beautiful but in a natural, fresh-faced, innocent way and Bridget had been lovely but also dangerous looking, a sort of fiercenes always hardening her eyes, making her rough around the edges. Marlene, though, was who you would imagine Sirius being with. They looked as if they went together, both of their hair long dark and beautiful and the thought made me laugh. There were freckles across her nose and cheekbones, which were high but she also had full cheeks that made her look infinitely youthful. She was stunning but in a wholesome, down to earth way and her eyes were blue, these dark starry blues that seemed impossible but were warm at the same time. She was tall, not much shorter than Sirius with a narrow waist but wide hips and her legs went on and on and on...

She was just who you would imagine Sirius being with. This easy stunner who did not really try but did not really need to. Much like Sirius, just easily graceful. I could have probably fallen in love with her myself and I laughed again and she smiled at me and I decided to speak.

"Marlene, Sirius is just so...happy with you. It's so rare to see him smile." I refilled my own mug and her wine glass and Sirius's whiskey. She began drinking her refreshed wine even as she stood there.

We had been friends at Hogwarts, although not close ones, but she was someone I spoke to most of the time and we helped one another with homework and tsked the boys and she could have become Head Girl just as easily as I had. She was very smart and talented and _confident_ on top of it all. Marlene McKinnon was who Sirius was going to _marry_ but I refrained from saying that out loud.

"He's wonderful," She was quiet but her lips were in a smile and she held onto the counter as she considered my words and then looked over to me. "He's sort of unravelling, there are days he seems...so far gone but he always comes back and when he's happy it's...so easy to be around him." I got goosebumps for her.

"I'm glad he found you," I said and she grinned fully and hugged me briefly.

"And vice versa," She said, nodding and drinking again. "It's nice to be apart of something in all of this. I feel apart of his whole unit now, you know? My family has been so out of sorts with all of this and it's nice to have some friends to be around." I appreciated her so much then.

"Do you love him?" I asked and her eyes were kind and warm but maybe sad.

"It hasn't been very long but it's the easiest thing right now, to love. It's the only thing to really offer and I love him, really. I haven't said it but he's not the type now is he?" She mused and I was fit to burst with all of the hope stacking inside of me.

James passed out on the chesterfield, Remus and Peter left, Sirius kissed Marlene goodnight and her cheeks were splotchy from the wine and Sirius's eyes were slitted from the whiskey that was well on his breath.

"I'll help you," Whereas Marlene wobbled slightly when she Disapparated, Sirius was steady on his feet if not a little louder when he spoke and a little more forward. He handled his drink, it was not something new anymore.

We gathered the glasses and mugs and straightened the living room, carrying the dishes to the kitchen and I scrubbed them magically while he dried them manually.

"Did you tell him?" He asked and I pursed my lips because we were not supposed to talk about it.

"I haven't. Not the right time." Sirius nodded and did not dwell and I appreciated him and I was happy that I could speak with Marlene about how great he was and identify with that attraction but also acknowledge that it had long passed for me and I felt as a wiser older sister to him now.

"What do you think of Marlene?" He was somehow tan in the wintertime, just the natural colour of his skin, and there was a slight pink to his skin as he mentioned her.

"I've known her since we were 11, Sirius," It was 4 o'clock AM. "But I know what you mean – outside of school, in a relationship with you – I think she's lovely. She's got a lot going for her and you two look bloody made for each other."

We finished the dishes in silence and he collapsed on the couch I awoke James off of and there he spent the night. It was nice, it was as if I was making my own family with these people, these young strays like Sirius.

James kissed me on the way to the bedroom and he touched the bare skin under my shirt once we were beneath the covers and I slapped him away saying I was too cold and tired and he laughed in a drunken stupor and fell asleep after he said he loved me and I wondered when it had become so nice, so easy, so happy.

It was puzzling to know this happiness, this abrupt life with James was so because of the apocalyptic fear we had.

We built a life because we didn't have much time left to do so, it felt like.

We just wanted to feel normal, to enjoy this normalcy for as long as we could but - Unforgivable curses were not. Death of masses and unmarked graves were not normal.

To feel defeated was the easiest thing in the world, to feel lost and useless was the way I would initially turn but I tried not to. I tried to put on a face and remember Dumbledore could call down the thunder if he wanted to. He knew what he was doing. We knew what we were doing.

People were losing weight and going into hiding and scared for their families because Death Eaters outnumbered Order members but Dumbledore was unshakable. He had faith. The only way for peace to be restored in our world was for the end to this evil because murders were public, great affairs and everyone was on edge. There was no end in sight but there had to be because we could not live, survive, thrive in this murderous, evil, segregated world. People were terrified and there was no trust anywhere anymore. People looked to the Ministry as corrupt and the Order was an underground movement and everyone believed it lacked real purpose, real achievement.

The members had blind hope that we were doing something good but it was all we had. Tensions were high and people were angry and we could not get enough numbers, get enough intel on the other side and it was frustrating. Remus was angry, Sirius was drunk, Peter was meek and James was steady.**  
**

Remus beat Sirius up at an Order meeting and I was exasperated. Absolutely exasperated and my back hurt as my breasts grew and I had not told James yet I was pregnant. Remus punched Sirius in the face after a confrontation about Sirius being a drunk and Sirius said something along the lines - "well I'm drunk but people trust me, no one trusts a werewolf" - and all bets were off after that. Remus hit him, Sirius swung, missed in his drunkenly way and hit a wooden beam in the basement kitchen, breaking his knuckles to bits and as mature as we acted, as much responsibility as we had – these were still dumb teenage boys with too much testosterone and too little good sense.

James rubbed his eyes and turned to where I stood next to Marlene, keeping a hand on her elbow so as to not go after Remus herself or something. But Marlene was reasonable, she knew Sirius was getting out of control, whereas before he could drink 'til he was rosy-cheeked and bleary-eyed but still spoke as if he were sober. Too much vodka – which made him worse than his usual night cap of whiskey or rum – not enough food or sleep or hope left in him and he was drunk but less violent and more child-like. He was non-functioning of late and it was worrisome.

"God damn it, Sirius," I said as we tried to regain some calm after the chaotic fighting and yelling and other Order members complaining, Dumbledore speaking swiftly to Remus and asking someone to take Sirius away. James stood helplessly, he had held Remus back after he tried to lunge at Sirius again but now he just stood there and I felt worse for him than anyone. Marlene and I hoisted Sirius up off of the floor and draped his arms around us, Disapparating away to St. Mungo's.

"God _damn it, _Sirius!" I said again as we arrived and we threw him into a chair while we waited for a Healer. "It would just be the stupidest thing in the world if you got yourself killed because you are an alcoholic not because of the war. Could you imagine the obit? Sirius Black, dead because he rode his god damn flying motorcycle drunk. Sirius Black, dead because he pissed his best friend off, again, and this time the blow to the head killed him. Sirius Black, dead because he poisoned his body with alcohol and was a useless prat to the Order of the Phoenix and we don't even have time to worry about him being dead because we have to make up for all of the holes he left in our plans. Sirius Black, dead because he's selfish,-"

"Okay, Lily," Marlene interjected, as I flailed my arms around, red in the face, Sirius looking at me steadily but quietly. "That's enough."

"I'm not a drunk," he shrugged sluggishly, slurring and examining his bloody bruised knuckles. "Remus is too high strung. And you need to calm down, fucking pregnant and going off like that, blood pressure through the roof I'm sure,-"

Marlene looked at me with sudden wide eyes, somewhere between horrified and thrilled.

"Pregnant!"

"If you weren't a drunk you would know to keep confidential information confidential." I muttered and my back hurt, my cheeks stung with colour from my anger.

"I'm going home," And I did, to James who had invited Remus to stay - "gotta show some loyalty to him, love, he truly believes no one trusts him and Padfoot wasn't too far off with that exclamation" - and who were sitting up on the couch pounding firewhiskey.

"Not you two as well," I said, sitting on the floor against a cushion.

"We stop at one drink, he stops at a bottle," Remus assured and he was calmer now.

"Love, love, love," James sighed endearingly, beckoning me over to him and I sat on the arm of the chesterfield before sinking into his lap, laying my head on his shoulder. "Did you go at him?"

"Yelled a bit. Marlene told me to cool it. His hands a mess, pretty little nose looks broken too." I said and Remus grinned.

"My hero," James smiled what could only be described as dazzlingly and Remus went off to bed as we stayed on the sofa, a low lamp casting a warm golden sleepy glow over the room. "My love," He became darker as Remus left, nuzzling into my neck and breathing there slowly, hands tight around me. "Tell me things will work out in the end," More of a breath than a whisper.

"Don't worry, don't worry – we can't worry about the what-ifs yet," Yet. I smoothed his hair and kissed his eyes and felt my own heart thump heavily.

"I'm pregnant," he looked up sharply with the same expression Marlene had offered me. "no, no, no, no, don't worry, I'm so happy...I'm so hopeful about this and this only...please don't worry." I smiled at him and I knew my eyes were dancing with a thousand emotions.**  
**

* * *

"How far along are you?" James thought to ask the next morning after we awoke to Remus cooking breakfast of bacon and toast, skimped on the eggs.

I bit my lip. I hadn't told him Sirius knew and Marlene too before he himself knew. I could not predict his reaction.

"About six weeks, I think. I haven't been to a doctor so I can't be sure yet but I've only known for a week...I was frightened and didn't know how to tell you because of the way you reacted when Alice had her miscarriage and she's pregnant again, too, James and Sirius noticed I had stopped drinking with the rest of you lot and cut out the cigs, too," I figured honesty was the best policy, what was the sense in hiding anything anymore? We were grown, we were married, we had love. Sirius was some lost moment in time that was just a part of growing up.

"Sirius knows? Sirius knew first?"

"Not because I told him because he – he _fathomed_ or something. Only he would notice I wasn't drinking because he noticed how much he was. It's neither here nor there, James."

"Oh, there's nothing of it, I'm not upset, it's my kid not his – just...funny I suppose that Sirius would be the insightful one out of us. Bloody _sensed_ you were pregnant, he should look into Diviniation the prat."

Remus looked weary when we told him.

"Congratulations," Although his voice died and his throat sounded dry and he looked like a disapproving older brother or something in the moment.

"It wasn't planned, Moony. No one is more shocked and less certain than me," James told him. I guess honesty was the theme of the morning.

"It's not even so much that you're bringing a child into the world during warfare it's that...you're bringing a child into the world at all. Really are growing up, you know? Feeling my age, feeling decades beyond my age. _A baby._ That's a real thing. Magic and wands and wizened old wizards and angry evil-doers hardly seem real when you talk about a baby. That is life and love and a real tangible little thing that your whole world is going to revolve around."

Remus made me sob over my soggy toast and bacon and I got up to hug him. It had taken us some time but we had gotten there, I had cracked through his bitter shell at least somewhat and he accepted me as an integral part of their lives and we really were grown up when he threw the dish towel over his shoulder, kissed my cheek, hugged me tightly and briefly lifted me off the ground.

"You are seriously stupid, don't get me wrong but the next Marauder generation and all. I'm proud of you, James, waiting til the biggest wizard war in history to get someone knocked up, not during fifth year or something,"

James read the paper. "I don't think it's called knocked up when she's your wife but I dunno. Thanks mate." They shared a smile and Remus let me go, told me I was all right and finished drying the dishes.

Things were calmer and lighter and happier when Sirius wasn't around. I worried that was what Remus was going for, though, to establish a stable ground that morning so if there ever came the time to take sides in their argument...

He looked dark again as he did the dishes and he had way of clenching his jaw that made him look older and angrier and his sandy hair was freshly shorn and he really was the antithesis to Sirius in many ways but they shared the darkness.

Funny, though, because, really, we all shared the darkness.**  
**

I could not help in the Order anymore although I attended the meetings and sat close to the live wire tension that was Sirius and Remus. Peter would get me herbal teas with honey and he was attentive when the others could not be and I did miss the caffeine now I was pregnant but it also meant I slept through the nights easier which was a comfort when my mind needed to shut down. Marlene, though, was the most attentive and would stay back from missions with me or spend the night at Godric's Hollow when maybe James couldn't come home.

Her and Sirius were at a bit of an impasse and dealing with their tangled lives became a hobby of mine as I sat with my feet up and my hair frizzy, bags beneath my eyes and wrinkles coming in. Nineteen years old was I, not thirty-nine. A pregnancy should be easy I thought, I had watched Molly Weasley birth four of her own already – well not literally watched but she came and went with the seasons and had a new one on her hip each time and was not that much older than me. It was downtrodding me, though, and likely because I had to sit back while my husband and friends risked their lives and even more so now they were a woman down, now that I was not factored into their missions and I wished I had waited until I started showing to tell anyone. I wished I could still go hunting Death Eaters and wished I could get my first kill in -

When I started thinking about that...about murder, revenge, torture...so casually, I worried for things. I worried for myself and my husband and our child, a child who would have parents that had aimed to kill on more than one occasion. I worried for the people who would surround our baby, my parents out of the picture, my sister estranged, James's Dad dead and Mum considering hiding out...Remus a werewolf, Peter a closed book, Sirius a drunk, Marlene in love with a drunk...What were we thinking, I wondered. We were 19 and at war and that didn't mean we were ready for anything that was about to befall us.

* * *

But befall us they did, and Marlene would die in 1981, before the end of the war – her whole family wiped off by Voldemort.

That was the changing point for all of us – That was when we realized this was an uphill battle and we were losing...we were losing the war and we were losing people and we lost Marlene. It hurt...it hurt but we were all so numb to it, we were just thankful it wasn't ourselves or our own families. I remember crying for an entire day when we lost her, but then there was nothing else to be done – There was no real mourning because we had to wage on, we had to battle forward...we couldn't even have a proper funeral or anything. Sirius said goodbye to the only love of his life by toasting a drink to her after the debriefing on her death and pounding the entire thing in one swill.

This would be the dark days of Sirius Black.

Remus and Sirius fell apart even more, and I became Remus's champion, fighting for his rights as the judgements on a werewolf increased. After Marlene was killed, Sirius fell apart for a few days, black out drunk and raging, but then he pulled himself together, sorry that the last months spent with her he was at his angriest, at his most incompetent, but it was too late, the hole was dug and we were down deep in the depths of despair. We didn't know how to win, there was no winning – Dumbledore was the only certain one and it made us no more certain.

A year before, though, before all hope had been lost, before Marlene died a quick death, I gave birth to our first and only child. In July, after being heavily pregnant during the warmest summer we had seen in years, on the very last day, Harry James Potter was born.

A head full of dark hair, and my green eyes...when they flopped him onto my chest, covered in fluids from within my womb, I never felt more shocked or complete than I did then. He was perfect, and tiny, and my heart swelled, and James was gaping at me, tears in his eyes. His son, the boy who would carry on the Potter name...this little piece of us. He looked more like James than James himself looked anymore, a piece of the boy that James had been when we first fell in love it. My terror for the world around us increased tenfold as Harry cried and the nurses cleaned him up, and I never wanted him to be taken away from me.

I would die before I let anything happen to him.

"Lily," James had said, stroking Harry's forehead as he slept in my arms, and he never was more a man to me than then, a father, a partner. "I love you, sweetheart," And he was tender and my heart beat only for him, for them.

"Did I do well?" I asked, smiling at the bundle we never asked for, we never expected, but had become apart of us the second we saw him.

"I never dreamt of one so beautiful. Oh, God, we're cursed and blessed all at once, Lily oh Lily."

"I love you, darling. I can't – I can't imagine living for anything else, than this, than our family." I meant it, and I was earnest, and scared, but determined.

James kissed my lips, then my head, and we were safe, and whole for those few days after we welcomed our son.

* * *

And so, that's how it went...a prophecy was told and we were endangered even more, our son a piece of the prophecy...we went into hiding...Sirius was the Godfather and our secret keeper until the last minute, when we chose Peter Pettigrew...The bastard, the betrayer...but I'd never know that in my lifetime...

James cemented himself as the love of my life, saving me from Voldemort himself after I rejoined the Order, once Harry was a few months old. There was nothing to laugh about anymore, hardly anything to smile or even wake in the mornings for...but there was James and there was Harry, and for that sliver of time, I had a perfect family. Even as the battle waged on, even as Sirius and Remus were struggling and alienated, Peter acting more bizarre and detached the more threatening things became.

I was young, younger than most who reflect on their lives, younger than most married with a child...But it was the nature of warfare, to grow up quick and have all you can before...before...

For long, many years, I was a selfish, morose girl who didn't know her future, who agonized over a family she couldn't change, who didn't know who to love or even how to love. But, it all changed when I became pregnant...it was all different and my fear wasn't for myself anymore. No, this wasn't the ideal life, no this wasn't the way I imagined things...and I found myself passionate for very little, not getting the chance to land on my feet after Hogwarts before we were thrust into battle...but I was passionate for James, and I was steady for James, and the only reason we continued was for the chance of a future afterwards. I had never felt more love or strength in my life until I was married to him, until I had this man to look to for guidance and reassurance, and I offered him the same. I loved him, I loved his friends...Remus and Sirius felt practically my own blood and they were my family, they were the ones I loved the most in the world, my men, and my boy.

In my lifetime, in our lifetime, during our war...nothing would get mended, not permanently. Voldemort disappeared, his minions did, many were imprisoned in Azkaban...so was Sirius Black at the doing of Peter Pettigrew...but it would not end until our son, the Boy Who Lived, changed everything. He saved lives, he knew our friends, our family, he struggled and persevered and I died for him, just as James died for us.

There was nothing in my lifetime, in my short life, in my short marriage to James, that made my life complete, or above all else...nothing that gave me revelation or propelled me from being a girl to a woman...but it had happened, and I was different, I was whole, I was fierce. We had lost, and apart of it was peace and acceptance. To cherish the precious time we had left, for we knew it couldn't last, and it didn't.

I would live again through magic, I would see my son again through magic, but it was distantly, from the beyond, from a quiet resting place that I thought nothing of until I ended up there.

We never had the chance to raise him, I never had the chance to be everything I might have been, a woman cut down in her prime, but the world was changed for our sacrifice, and our love, our son – Peace found them all, eventually, our son, and his children...

And that was all that mattered.


End file.
